


MJ and the spreadsheets

by KByrd



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, First Time, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2020-11-07 16:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20820110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KByrd/pseuds/KByrd
Summary: Here’s the deep, dark secret about MJ aka Michelle Jones.She’s not cool and detached and snarky … she’s socially inept. Awkward. She's always a little out of step with others. She fits right into Midtown Tech - a school for gifted kids who are maybe a little different.





	1. Awkward

MJ walks into school and notices Ned and Peter talking by their locker. It’s late and it’s quiet and there are not many people around. Peter lifts his shirt partially up and even from several yards away, MJ can see the road rash across his torso – he looks like he was dragged down a gravel road.

Ned exclaims in sympathy and Peter laughs and pulls his shirt down.

And MJ mentally adds the scene to her spreadsheet.

Here’s the deep, dark secret about MJ aka Michelle Jones.

She’s not cool and detached and snarky … she’s socially inept. At least that’s the unofficial diagnosis that has followed her through school from elementary to middle school to her previous high school.

She says stupid things.

She misreads the situation.

She covers by saying that she is just messing with people, but deep down, she wonders what is wrong with her that she cannot figure out normal human interaction.

She hasn’t had a close friend since grade four.

Then she transfers to Midtown Tech High, which is a school for high achieving nerdy kids who specialize in STEM. And there are kids here with learning disabilities, and ADHD, and some are on the spectrum … and the school body just … accepts that some kids are weird and different.

So when Michelle is sharp and sarcastic, people shrug and take her at face value – she’s just being herself.

It’s weird.

Liz Toomes is friendly to her which makes Michelle deeply suspicious because Liz is everything that any teenager wants to be – rich, tall, beautiful (NO acne on her!), smart … and yet surprisingly nice.

Liz invites Michelle to participate in the decathlon and Michelle says no. She says ‘no’ three times before finally giving in.

“Good!” says Liz brightly. “We need more smart girls on the team.”

It’s because she’s on the team and she’s watching Liz that she notices Peter, who is after all, just a guy. An ordinary, dweeby, nerd.

In the immortal words of one of Michelle’s heroes, the feisty Anne Shirley – Peter Parker is ‘clean gone’ on Liz.

He trips over his feet in her presence.

He zones out staring at her and has to be poked into paying attention.

He’s super smart, but sometimes gets flustered when Liz is too close.

Michelle kind of pities him.

But Michelle prides herself on being a detached observer so she’s probably the first one to notice that Peter Parker has a secret. A different, not-crush-on-the-pretty-girl secret. Something … weirder.

Like how often he gets hurt – and how quickly he heals. The nasty road rash is little more than a fading bruise the day after Michelle notices it.

One day he’s wearing sunglasses to mask a spectacular black eye and the next day, he’s fine.

Michelle is worried that he’s being abused, but she’s also baffled by how quickly the bruises and cuts vanish.

Flash is swooning over Spider-man and Liz admits to a crush. Michelle watches Ned give Peter a quiet fist bump under the table and she’s immediately suspicious.

Her first assumption is that the masked crusader isn’t real – maybe these two nerds photoshopped scenes from a B-movie and uploaded them to YouTube.

But everyone is Queens has a story about their local hero. Too many people have met him for the story to be a prank.

Michelle starts a spreadsheet to identify what Liz does that makes her so socially … competent.

And a separate spreadsheet to figure out Peter’s secret. 

She’s watching Ned and Peter when another classmate is telling an elaborate story of how Spider-man saved her from muggers and walked her home and _flirted_ with her. Everyone else is captivated by the story, but Michelle sees Ned poke Peter and make an inquiring face and Peter give a mini shake of his head.

Huh. So clearly the story isn’t entirely accurate, but how did Ned know that Peter would know?

She starts a spreadsheet to figure out who Spider-man is.

It takes her no time at all to realize that Spider-man’s schedule is connected to high school – he’s more active on weekends and evenings and school holidays. And not just any high school, but he’s weirdly synchronized with Midtown High.

When a small fire in the chemistry lab closes the school unexpectedly for a few days, Spider-man is out and about during those days even though other high schools are obviously in session. During exam week, he is oddly scarce.

A teacher?

Michelle considers the options and rejects her theory – there is NO teacher at Midtown high cool enough to be Spider-man.

A student then?

She’s not obsessed, but she ends up watching A LOT of footage of Spider-man and she has to admit that he has that loose-limbed, gangly walk of a lot of teenaged boys. He bounces on the balls of his feet and fidgets. Sometimes he can be seen scrolling through his phone. There’s something familiar and endearing about him.

One day, she’s watching out a window of the school and sees Peter JUMP from the top of the bleachers to the ground as easily as if he were stepping over a pole on the ground.

She notices that when he’s asked to clean up the weights after gym class, he slings them around as if they weigh nothing.

A stray thought buzzes through her brain like a mosquito and she brushes it away. But it persists.

What if …?

She’s a woman of science and she trusts data so she starts to conduct more research. Part of this means actually talking to dweeb 1 and dweeb 2 – aka Ned and Peter. They seem a little taken aback by her conversational overtures.

Perhaps Liz would not have started with “Hey losers.”

But they share a number of classes, plus the decathlon so there are plenty of opportunities to get together and study. Or talk about their favourite movies.

She’s been watching Liz who is super sweet and nice. Liz listens to people even when they’re talking about things that aren’t her favourite thing.

MJ takes notes.

Liz asks questions and nods and pays attention to people – even those who aren’t her close friends.

MJ tries out this novel approach on Ned and Peter.

She asks them what they’re interested in.

The boys are actually not totally terrible. They make space for her at their table. They ask her what she’s reading and they actually seem to listen when she explains the college-level theories on feminism and colonialism that she’s working on.

They settle into a kind of easy companionship – not quite friendship, but something.

“I’m going to the comic book store,” Ned announces one day. “Want to come with?”

“Can’t,” Peter says briskly. “Internship.”

“Course,” Ned barely avoids rolling his eyes.

Michelle watches.

“What about you?” Ned asks her. “Want to join me?”

“What?” she asks, startled. She didn’t think she was that close a friend.

“He’s busy,” Ned points out. “And we can get tea or coffee after. If you want”

MJ knows that Liz would say ‘yes’.

MJ hesitates.

Ned shrugs. “No pressure.”

“Sure,” she agrees.

Twenty minutes later as they are walking along the street, they see the familiar red costumed figure in the sky.

She gets invited over to their houses to watch movies, play a little D&D, and fight some video game battles. Peter’s aunt May is an absolute sweetheart so MJ stops worrying that Peter is being beaten at home.

Although he’s still showing up to school with unexplained injuries.

Sometimes they go to Ned’s house since Ned is an eldest brother and is often responsible for his younger siblings.

Sometimes Peter is late; sometimes he fails to show up. MJ is learning that if you want to be friends with Peter, you have to tolerate that he is flaky and somewhat unreliable. But always VERY apologetic when he misses something.

MJ tracks Twitter to see when Spider-man is most active. She compares her spreadsheets.

The facts are hinting at a bizarre conclusion.

Spider-man gets shot (it’s on the news) and the next day Peter is limping.

Peter sometimes falls asleep in class. He’s smart enough to answer most questions in class easily, but gets into trouble for not completing his homework.

He blames his fatigue on his internship.

MJ does research and learns that high school students aren’t eligible to apply for Stark internships. When she asks Peter for an explanation, he splutters and mutters something about being offered a ‘special’ internship. He never tells her what he actually does at or even specifically where he works.

He misses a day of school and MJ learns from Twitter that Spider-man got blasted out of a window, but crawled back and webbed up two would-be bank robbers.

By the time they go to Washington, Michelle is about 80-90% sure that Peter Parker IS spider-man. The data on her two overlapping spreadsheets are clear.

The only reason she isn’t 100% sure is that the idea is so preposterous. Clumsy, awkward, tongue-tied Peter Parker is a masked superhero in his spare time?

She’s watching when Peter bumps into Liz that evening in the hallway at the hotel. Liz invites him to go swimming and even from a distance, Michelle can see the longing in his face. But he goes up to the roof instead. And an hour later, when Michelle goes up to the roof herself, there is no sign of him.

He fails to show up for breakfast. He misses the bus AND he misses the competition – the actual reason for the field trip.

Liz is furious; the teachers are annoyed.

Ned is almost frantic.

“Hey loser,” Michelle greets him on their way to the Monument. “What happened to dweeb 1?”

“Dunno,” Ned admits, chewing his lip nervously. “He said he’d be here.”

The rest of the class go up the Monument and Michelle is peacefully reading her book and watching the crowds when there is a thump. The tower bizarrely appears to sway.

She squints and realizes with dawning horror that something awful is happening.

And suddenly, the friendly local Queens hero is jumping over her shoulder.

“My friends are up there!” she exclaims, far too worried to pretend to be cool.

“Oh crap!” he says. “Don’t worry ….err miss! I’ll … I’ll take care of them.”

And then he’s climbing up the outside of the Monument.

…

Afterwards …

After the helicopters and the ambulance and the police and the tears … afterwards, Michelle does not dare look at Peter.

He shows up later, long after Spider-man has vanished, looking tired and wan, and full of excuses for his absence. Not that anyone cares.

People cry on the bus going back to New York.

Peter slumps in the back, with his head pressed against the window.


	2. The European trip

By the following year, Michelle has decided to re-invent herself. That’s what high school is all about, right? Figuring out who you are?

She announces that she will henceforth be known as MJ, but only to friends. She enjoys a slight thrill at the power she has in deciding who can call her what.

Liz can call her MJ, but Liz is in Oregon.

She enjoys celebrity crushes, but the actual teenaged boys that she’s surrounded by do not interest her. Maybe that’s the problem. If she were interested in guys, she would be attracted to someone tall (because she’s tall herself), dark, non-American (because that would be cool) …

And it’s just her luck that Peter starts to pay attention to her.

It’s not as if she doesn’t recognize the signs – she did, after all, watch him quite thoroughly when he was mooning over Liz.

Every time she turns around, he’s watching her.

He smiles in that dorky way, only now it’s directed at her.

Even when she’s out and about, she can often look up and see the red suit on a building above her.

“Damn you,” she mutters.

She has not told him that she knows about his alter ego, but she does not appreciate the stalking.

Peter is not tall (obviously), or dark, or foreign … he is in fact, an ordinary American kid who is maybe a little awkward.

She’s going to have to let him down easy.

On the flight to Italy, one of the new kids, Brad Davis, ends up sitting next to her.

The blip has caused so much confusion. Half the people that MJ knew _before_ survived and were now five years older – some were looking at graduating college, getting married, etc. Half the kids who hadn’t even been in middle school were now studying side-by-side those who had been blipped. It makes for awkward conversations when someone might ask – hey, do you remember when …? And then they would trail off miserably knowing that their conversation partner had not, in fact, been around to remember.

Brad was born five years after MJ, and yet now is the same age and in the same grade.

It doesn’t seem to bother him.

“Hey, I brought split headphones,” he volunteers. “Want to watch a movie together?”

Since MJ is into re-inventing herself, she decides, why not?

And Brad is funny even though his conversation is not quite as … stimulating … as MJ might prefer.

She intends to enjoy Europe – it’s her first visit and if she’s learned nothing else from recent adventures, it’s to take advantage of such opportunities. Venice is amazing. Everything she could have asked for. Beautiful. Amazing food. A chance to practise a new language.

Ned hooks up with Betty – holy cow no-one saw that coming! He is adorable in his infatuation, but the new relationship means that his buddy Peter is at loose ends on the trip. Every time she turns around, MJ finds Peter watching her.

She tries to play it cool.

She sits with Brad, but gets annoyed because so much of his conversation is bragging about how amazing he is at various sports (like MJ cares) or video games (ditto) or the cool people he supposedly knows (not cool to brag, dude).

She can’t help gravitating to Peter who seems a bit lost without Ned. She doesn’t want to date him, but she doesn’t mind hanging out with him. He never brags even though she happens to know things about him that an ordinary teenager might preen about.

They practise a bit of Italian.

They sample gelato and decide that it’s excellent.

And then the water monsters wreak havoc in the canal, scattering classmates in the chaos. MJ runs with everyone else. She helps a mother with small children climb over a fence and she sees Ned shepherding people around a barrier.

Once they are far enough away from the water, she makes her way over to Ned.

“Hey, are you OK?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says shakily.

She looks around. “Where’s Peter?”

Ned looks upset. “I don’t know,” he says. “He doesn’t have his … um …”

MJ feels a wave of dread. She can’t admit to Ned that she knows about Peter’s secret, but she’s nervous at how upset Ned is.

“He’s on holiday,” Ned says miserably, which is an odd things to say except that MJ can guess what it means. If Peter has gone to fight the water monsters, he’s doing it as himself, not as Spider-man.

“He’ll be fine,” she assures him.

And it turns out that she’s right.

The students make their way in dribs and drabs to their hotel, shaking water off their clothes and muttering about weird alien monsters.

Peter isn’t even the last one to arrive, but he’s soaked and vanishes upstairs to change.

“I have SO had it!” Betty complains loudly.

“How many weird things can happen to one class?” Flash grumbles.

“What do you mean?” asks one of the younger, non-blipped kids.

Flash counts the events off on his fingers … “First, we’re stuck in an elevator at the Washington Monument when a bomb goes off, second Spider-man literally steals my dad’s car, then the stupid alien donut thing ...”

“That happened to everyone,” MJ objects. “That’s not specific to us.”

Peter and Ned are back in the lobby, changed and dry and checking up on everyone.

They go ahead with their holiday.

**

Prague

When they agree to go out for a walk, MJ is determined to tell Peter that she knows his secret. But she finds herself babbling about serial killers (not even true) and executions and Peter is eyeing her in that bemused way he has. Does he know _her_ secret that she’s not really cool, just faking it?

“I have something to tell you,” he says earnestly.

“That you’re Spider-man?” she guesses.

The look on his face is priceless.

“What?! No, of course not,” he babbles, looking horrified.

She smirks. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been watching you.”

“You’ve been … what …?” His eyes narrow. “Were you only watching me because you thought I was Spider-man?”

MJ nods, “Yeah … why else would I be watching you?”

She knows better than to explain the spreadsheets.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says and there is something in his tone of voice that warns her that something has gone haywire in this conversation again. He sounds … upset.

MJ fumbles in her bag and pulls out the device that she picked up during this afternoon chaos. “That’s your handiwork, right?” It’s wrapped in silken spider thread.

“No,” he says, somewhat frantically. “I’m not … I’m not … I don’t know why you think …”

She accidentally drops the device and it clicks and whirls and suddenly they are in the midst of a sandstorm; a dust devil swirls and manifests itself as the elemental that Peter fought earlier … and amazingly Mysterio is flying through the sky.

It happens so fast that MJ is frozen to the spot, but she feels no sense of panic. It’s an image – a hologram.

Peter grabs the device and it shuts off. “Holy shit,” he says.

And if MJ had the slightest 1% doubt in her mind, it is banished because he is suddenly all business. The high schooler who trips over his own feet is gone, replaced by a superhero who deals with supervillains and aliens on a regular basis.

“I’ve made a huge mistake,” he says in horror. “I need to call Fury.”

MJ hesitates, but he turns towards her. “Coming?”

So she follows as he retraces his steps into the hotel. He’s on his cellphone barking out quick commands. MJ hesitates in the doorway of his room and he tosses the webbed up camera on the bed and pulls out a black suit from under the bed.

“You have a new suit?” she asks, which is kind of a stupid question, but it’s all she can muster just now.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s new ‘cause as you pointed out earlier, it’s pretty weird that a Queens-based vigilante was in DC same time I was so if he shows up in Prague just when I happen to be on a school trip …”

“Pretty obvious, huh?”

“Yeah,” Peter admits.

To her surprise, he’s efficiently stripping off his clothes – kicking off his shoes, yanking his t-shirt over his head ...

MJ is frozen in place. She doesn’t have brothers, she’s not used to seeing so much … male … skin.

Peter looks up at her uneasily. “Um ... would you mind?”

So she turns around, but not before the image of him half-dressed is burnt on the inside of her eyelids.

“Tell Ned, would you?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

She turns around and he’s standing before her, fully-dressed in the black spider-man suit, adjusting his goggles.

“You’re really Spider-man?”

“I thought you’d already figured that out.”

“Yeah,” MJ admits. “Well … um … good luck.” 

He throws her an easy salute and climbs out the window.

London

Brad knows.

Flash knows.

MJ listens to her classmates discussing the mystery of Peter’s absence and the weird coincidence of Spider-man in Europe.

They’re students at a school for gifted kids – they’re not stupid.

Ned tries to deflect. “It’s not Spider-man,” he says loudly. “I was right there with Betty in the Ferris wheel – it’s a totally different superhero – I think he’s called the Night Monkey or something.”

“He had WEBS,” Betty argues. “What kind of a monkey has webs?”

MJ turns desperately to Flash. “There are so many copy-cats around, don’t you think?” she suggests. “I mean, there can only be one Spider-man and he’s in Queens, right?”

He takes her bait like a drowning man grabs at a life-preserver. “Yeah, yeah, it’s crazy, but there are all these … um … imposters. You know, once one guy shows them how to do it …”

He really, REALLY does not want to consider that Peter … dweeby, nerdy, skinny, target of so many of his barbs … PETER can be anyone else.

But Brad is like a puppy with a bone. He starts ticking off all the weird coincidences and inconsistencies including the question of WHY Peter is staying in Germany instead of sticking with the school tour.

“He has family in Germany,” Ned insists desperately.

“Who?”

“I don’t know – cousins?”

“Why not after the tour is over? Why now? Why is this the first we’re hearing of it?”

MJ puts gentle hand on his arm. “Brad, let’s talk about something else,” she suggests in what she hopes is a seductive voice. “I’m dying of thirst. Do you want to go check out the café across the street? Just the two of us?”

He peers at her suspiciously.

“With all this distraction, we can probably sneak away pretty easily,” she says.

“But aren’t you curious?” he asks. “I mean you know him pretty well, right?”

“Well enough to think that you’re crazy to worry,” she says easily. “I mean he’s Peter, right? Forgetting to tell us about the trip to Germany is totally typical of him.”

They’re herded onto the bus and MJ uses all the tips and tricks that she picked up from Liz to engage Brad in conversation. She asks about his high score in his favourite video game and if he was following news about sports from back home.

“Like baseball?” he asks dubiously. “I didn’t know you were interested?”

MJ sighs.

And then they’re stuck on a bus on a bridge and the elementals are swirling and rising out the water.

“Run!” someone yells and they scatter and flee.


	3. London hotel

After the battle as everyone else is patting themselves down for injuries and classmates are re-connecting and crying and hugging, MJ goes for a walk.

She has no idea where Peter/Spider-man might be.

London is a mess – buildings smoking, cars thrown around, sirens blaring.

She walks towards the bridge where it all started because that seems to be where the most destruction occurred.

It all happened so fast and there’s so much devastation in its wake – whatever IT was.

First-responders are dealing with injured people sitting on make-shift benches.

MJ sidesteps them all and walks onto the bridge.

She hasn’t even realized that she’s taken the mace with her until the drone whirrs and hovers in the air. It wobbles, clearly damaged, but swivels, its sensors scanning the debris on the bridge. Then it zooms in on MJ and swoops closer.

MJ hefts the mace and swings it fiercely.

She connects with a satisfying clunk and the drone shatters, falling to the ground in a shower of metal bits.

“Oh my god!” a familiar voice calls out and MJ looks up to see Spider-man limping as quickly as possible towards her. He slows as he realizes who it is and what she’s just done.

“Peter!”

“Shh,” he says as he threads his way through the rubble. “Cameras everywhere.”

He’s limping heavily and pressing one hand to his side. He cocks his head and looks at her. She imagines that he’s grinning behind the mask. “Trust you to save the day,” he says lightly. “I should just hand the mask over to you.”

Despite his humour, his voice is rough.

“Ha!” MJ laughs shakily. “Can I help you? You look like you’re hurt …”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Happy’s coming for me ... can you ... umm ..?”

She slides her arm around his waist and lets him sling his arm around her shoulders and lean on her. He hisses slightly, clearly in pain.

They navigate through the mess of damaged cars and broken pieces of buildings and cracked posts until a sleek black car pulls up.

Peter opens the door and motions for her to slide in first. As soon as he’s in, Peter rips the mask off and leans back, muttering “Ow, ow …”

“Hey, hey!” Happy exclaims from the driver’s seat. “Kid! What are you DOING? Put the mask back on!”

“She knows,” Peter says sharply, his eyes closed.

“You’ve never mentioned her!” Happy argues as he hits the gas pedal and zooms recklessly through traffic.

“This is MJ,” Peter says with a careless wave.

Happy grunts. “You said your name was _Michelle_,” he complains to MJ.

“Well, we’re not friends,” MJ retorts sharply.

Peter grins.

“Well in that case,” Happy grumbles. “Here, this is for you.” He twists awkwardly to hand MJ a small gift bag.

She recognizes it from Venice.

“Oh jeez, Happy,” Peter mutters. “Not here, not now.”

“What is it?” MJ asks.

“It’s … it’s for you,” Peter admits softly.

“I was supposed to give it to MJ if he died,” Happy supplies.

“Shut up,” Peter says. He looks embarrassed.

She opens it.

“I had this whole thing planned,” Peter says softly, watching her. “For Paris … I wanted to take you to the top of the Eiffel Tower.”

“I don’t like heights,” she admits.

“Ah,” Peter murmurs, shifting in his seat. He presses his hand a little harder to his side. MJ can see that his suit is slick with blood.

It takes her a moment to recognize the jewellery. “It’s a black Dahlia,” she murmurs in surprise. “How’d you know …?”

“I’m not TOTALLY oblivious,” he smiles.

MJ bites her lip. It’s such a lovely gift.

“I was going to tell you,” Peter whispers, looking nervous. “How I feel … about you.”

MJ doesn’t do emotions well. She’s afraid she might say the wrong thing … or maybe not saying anything at all will be misconstrued.

So she gathers her courage and leans over and kisses Peter.

It’s not a great kiss. She’s never kissed anyone before and she suspects that Peter is equally inexperienced. They’re in a car and he’s in pain and it’s a bit awkward, but … it’s still great.

He kisses her back with enthusiasm.

“Hey!” Happy explains. “None of that! Not in this car …”

Peter pulls away and fires a blast of web at the partition, sealing it closed. Happy’s voice is immediately muffled.

“Wow,” MJ says, her eyes wide.

Peter grins and pulls her closer for another kiss. And another.

When they get to the hotel, which looks like an enormous pink palace, Peter pulls the mask back on and they smuggle him up the back entrance, using the service elevator.

When they get into their hotel room, there are two women waiting for them, apparently the doctor and an assistant. Peter yanks off his mask again and takes a big shuddery breath.

“Kid!” Happy snaps at him.

“They’re about to see a whole bunch more of me than just my face,” Peter answers irritably. He hands one of them a flash drive apparently from his suit. They guide him to a bedroom and start unzipping and peeling off the suit.

The dispassionate female voice of the AI from his suit starts to list his vitals and his apparent injuries … dislocated shoulder, broken ribs, lacerated torso …

MJ hovers uncertainly in the doorway as the medical staff peel the suit off. She can’t help but gasp though as they reveal his torso, bloody from the waist up. It looks like he’s been dragged across a cheese grater.

Happy takes her arm and leads her away. “It looks worse than it is,” he assures her.

“He’s missing SKIN,” she hisses at him.

Happy rolls his eyes. “These superheroes,” he sniffs dismissively. “Bounce back from everything.”

She wants to say something rude about Tony Stark, who did NOT bounce well, but holds her tongue.

Happy wants details from her – parents contact info, school details … Since she doesn’t have luggage, he hands her a tablet and tells her to pick a whole new wardrobe.

“There are no prices,” she notes.

“Falls under the superhero budget,” he grunts.

She doesn’t like him, but he is surprisingly organized. In no time, he’s touched base with the school trip chaperones and assured them she’s fine and will stay where she is until a flight home is organized. He points out the mini bar stocked with snacks.

“The kid will be hungry when he wakes up,” he says. “His metabolism is crazy high, especially when his super healing factor is activated.”

“OK.”

“Will you stay with him?

MJ nods. “Yeah. Of course. Where are you going to be?”

“Down the hall.”

The assistant opens the bedroom door. “You should come in,” she says to MJ. “Might settle him down a bit.”

MJ is not cut out to be a caregiver. She has a sharp tongue and an inclination to say the wrong thing. And she doesn’t deal well with emotions and pain. But she obediently goes into the bedroom and carefully sits on the bed.

Peter is propped up in bed, most of his chest wrapped in bandages. His eyes are suspiciously bright and he looks tense.

As MJ reaches for his hand, the doctor tut-tuts. “Don’t do that,” she says. “If he seizes, he’ll break your fingers.”

Peter’s fingers curl in the sheets. “They have procedures,” he says bitterly.

MJ strokes his arm instead. It’s hard to think of him as bizarrely strong. She’s just wrapping her head around the idea that he really is Spider-man. The other implications are hard to grasp.

“Heart rate elevated,” the AI announces.

“Karen, stop reporting my vitals,” Peter snaps. “Unless it’s something that’s actually useful.”

The doctor smirks a bit as she keeps working. There’s a plonk as she drops something metal into a bowl.

“You dork,” MJ chides him. “I guess it seems cool in sci-fi to have an all-knowing AI, but in real life …”

“She knows too much,” he agrees drily.

She sits on the bed and strokes his arm and tries to distract him with aimless chatter about pop culture and movies and songs. He plays along, teasing her about avoiding the last Star Trek movie.

At times, he winces as the doctor pokes a sore spot.

Finally the doctor finishes and cleans up her gear.

MJ walks her out and gets careful instructions. “He’ll need food – high quality food,” the doctor recommends. “Not burgers and chips like you Americans generally eat. And he’ll probably sleep a lot. I’ve patched up more than my share of individuals with accelerated healing powers.”

Happy provides MJ with a credit card and the room service menu. “Make yourself at home,” he mutters. “But not too much if you know what I mean.”

“Thanks.”

When she goes back to the room, Peter is asleep and MJ looks at him fondly. It would be a cliché to say that he looks younger asleep, but it is odd to see him so still. He’s usually such a twitching bundle of nerves.

MJ wanders around the hotel suite which is bigger than any apartment she’s ever been in. She thinks of adjectives to describe it … opulent, decadent, ostentatious …

There are at least two other bedrooms, a full kitchen (although not stocked with food), a dining room, a balcony, a living room with a giant TV, a bathroom with a tub that she could swim laps in … everything is gilded with gold. There is fancy artwork on the walls and statues on shelves.

MJ soaks in the ridiculous bathtub and dresses in a new yellow sundress that was delivered to the door. She’s fiddling with the array of remotes, trying to figure out how to turn the TV on when she hears a noise.

Peter is in the doorway of the bedroom, looking rumpled and owl-ly, holding one hand to his side.

“Peter!” MJ exclaims. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“What?” he answers, looking a bit bemused. “It’s not like I’m dying or something.”

She rushes to his side.

“Seriously,” he laughs softly, then winces. “I’m fine. Accelerated healing.”

She squints at him dubiously.

“But I AM hungry,” he admits. “Is there any food?”

“Just granola bars and snack mixes,” she says.

“How about I get dressed and we go out for dinner?” he suggests with a grin. “I’d like to do that. You look beautiful, by the way. Is that dress new?”

“Oh my god, those must be good drugs. You are loopy,” MJ smiles. “And yes, Happy told me to order a whole new wardrobe since my suitcase was on that bus that might have blown up.”

“Oh yeah,” he nods. “Superhero budget – take advantage of being funded by Stark enterprise. Seriously, let me find some clothes …”

“You can barely stand!” MJ laughs. “No, let’s get room service.”

He gives in.

They sit on the balcony and watch the sun set over London. The sky is orange and pink and they can see the big Eye of London. They eat an enormous dinner (enough for four people) and splurge on fancy desserts.

“It’s the second time I’ve been to a city and seen nothing,” Peter complains. “I have a stamp in my passport that says I was in Germany, but all I saw was the Berlin airport. I arrived, punched a few people, and I left.”

“Next time,” MJ promises. “We’ll go sightseeing.”

They call home using Stark video. Peter excitedly tells May that MJ ‘knows his secret’.

“Which one?” May teases.

“ALL of them,” MJ says drily in the background.

“How badly hurt are you?” May asks Peter.

“I feel like I got hit by a train, then shot at by hundreds of drones,” Peter says with a shrug. “Not the worst I’ve ever been.”

After he hangs up, MJ eyes him. “Train?” she asks.

“A story for another day,” he promises.

She video-calls her parents and assures them that she’s fine. Coming home with the class in two days.

**

The next morning, Happy and the doctor arrive while they are eating room service breakfast. To MJ’s amazement, Peter is indeed almost better. The cuts and bruises on his face are mostly healed and he’s assuring her that his broken fingers are fine.

“How long does it usually take you to recover from broken bones?” she asks.

“Thirty-six to forty-eight hours,” he answers smugly.

“Holy …”

He grins. He’s not 100%. His cracked ribs are still preventing him from breathing properly and he’s keeping the bandages on his still tender skin.

The doctor checks him over and pronounces herself pleased with his healing.

“What are you two planning to do today?” Happy asks.

“Netflix,” Peter answers promptly.

MJ is immediately suspicious.

“I saw the first episode of the cool new show called the Umbrella Academy and I can’t wait to watch the rest,” Peter insists with wide eyes.

The moment they leave, Peter is snapping his fingers. “Did Happy bug your phone?” he asks.

“What? No!”

“Let me see?” He takes her phone and prises off the back. “Yup!” he says smugly, holding up a chip. “Stark technology. NOT sold in stores so probably for tracking.”

Bastard!” she exclaims.

“Never mind,” he smiles at her, dropping the offending chip into a potted plant. “It’s only Happy – it’s not really all that difficult to fool him.”

He removes the Stark credit card from his wallet and leaves it tucked into the same potted plant.

“Here,” he says casually, handing her a wad of cash. “Use this instead of plastic. Can’t be tracked.”

“What is this?”

“Per diem,” he says with an apologetic shrug. “Mr. Stark was so rich I don’t think he had any concept of money. I once saw him give a waitress a hundred dollar tip. So … my per diem is way more than I really need.”

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“To meet Ned and do some sightseeing,” he says cheerily.

He wants to rappel down the side of the building or at least, that’s what he suggests, but MJ stands strong. “We’re trying to be discreet, remember?” Not to mention, he is still injured. So they take the back elevator.

“Do you work for Stark industries?” MJ asks Peter as they’re going down in the elevator. She’s trying to wrap her head around the fancy hotel, the per diem, Happy and the doctor on call …

“Yeah,” he admits, looking a little uneasy. “I mean, you know I’d do this stuff for free. Hell, I’d do it if it cost, but … well, me and May, we’ve got to make rent somehow and if I didn’t have this Stark salary, I’d be trying to juggle school, a part-time job AND the … patrolling.”

“So you get paid to … swing around the city on patrol? Is some HR clerk tracking how much you get paid for each cat rescue?”

“No, no,” he laughs. “Officially, I am a part-time junior robotics engineer. That’s what it says on my paystub.”

“But unofficially …”

“Well … obviously I don’t actually have to show up at an office,” he smiles.

MJ gets it. She too shares a tiny three-bedroom apartment with her Dad and two sisters. It’s OK for rich guys like Tony Stark to do hero stuff in their free time, but for a kid from Queens? He’s got to pay the bills.

They catch a taxi to the museum to meet up with Ned.

And Ned is not alone …

MJ is holding Peter’s hand, which is all kinds of weird, and she feels him pause as he recognizes his best buddy sitting on a bench … next to his girlfriend Betty.

Who is, of course, completely surprised to see Peter.

And distracted briefly by the fact that Peter and MJ are holding hands.

“That’s new!” she squeals. “Or is it? Were you holding out on the rest of us?”

Peter tightens his grip because MJ keeps trying to let go. “No,” he says lightly. “It’s new … we’re … ah … new. Together.”

“Cute,” Betty says perkily.

Peter is making faces at Ned and Ned is looking sheepish and MJ decides to distract Betty by asking her about the day’s plan. Betty is a big-time planner and she’s already got a map and a guide book in her hand.

They do touristy things – they hit a couple of museums, some impressive cathedrals, they walk along the Thames, and Peter insists on riding the big Eye of London ferris wheel.

MJ thinks that he’s being a little insensitive since Ned and Betty were trapped on a ferris wheel in Prague only a few days before, but surprisingly, everyone (else) seems very keen. So they ride it. Up. Waaaay up.

Peter is bouncing a bit in delight. MJ can see how much he loves being so high, with such an amazing view. She keeps thinking of all the ways this can go wrong – mechanical failure, evil villains, bad weather …

Peter finally notices her nervousness (or maybe Ned kicks him).

“Hey,” he says, stroking her hand. “It’s OK. We’re safe.”

“I’m fine,” she says sharply. Because MJ does not like to express her emotions and fear of heights is pretty ridiculous.

Peter snuggles closer and wraps his arms around her. “It’s OK,” he murmurs in her ear. “Nothing’s going to happen.”

She pokes him irritably. “And now I feel like you’re just … I don’t know. Asking for it.”

“You know if anything DID happen, I’m right here?”

“Yes, but.” She’s embarrassed to be so nervous. It’s silly, but she’s feeling very exposed. “It’s just you … not …”

Peter sighs, looking disappointed. “You know I’m him even without the suit, right?” he asks softly.

MJ eyes him warily.

“I could do all that stuff before I got the suit,” Peter says. He’s keeping his voice low so that Betty can’t hear him. “Everything you see in those videos – it’s me.”

MJ shivers as the ferris car creaks and rocks in the wind.

“I swear, I swear,” Peter murmurs, his lips near her ear. “I won’t let anything bad happen.”

She kisses him.

He can’t really keep her safe. She knows that in her heart of hearts, but she loves that he wants to. A week ago she was thinking of ways to let him down easy, now she’s thinking of how selfless he is, flinging himself in danger’s way and caring so deeply about other people.

And Peter kisses her back. It’s so much better than yesterday when they were scrunched in the car. He strokes her cheek and cups his hand around the back of her neck and deepens the kiss.

Dimly she can hear Betty giggle and Ned grumble, but she’s really super focused on Peter’s lips and tongue and his hands in her hair …

“Jeez guys, get a room!” Betty giggles.

“Were we that annoying?” Ned asks. “When we first …?”

Peter pulls away from MJ for a moment. “Yes,” he answers Ned, then kisses MJ again.

MJ runs a finger down his arm from elbow to wrist, feeling for something that she’s not even sure of. She’s see videos of Spider-man shooting web from his wrist, but it’s so fast that she doesn’t quite understand how the whole thing works.

He is wearing something like a leather watch band around each wrist.

“Yes,” Peter whispers in her ear, apparently understanding her unasked question. “I’ve got web shooters with me in case I need them.” He shoots a quick glance at Betty and MJ understands that he’s being circumspect.

She’s a little mad at Betty for coming along on this trip and quite a bit angrier at Ned for inviting his girlfriend – who does not know the big secret - along. If she weren’t here, they could be talking about important things. MJ could ask a million questions and Peter could tell Ned about his big fight. And he could explain how he shoots web and climbs up walls.

But for now she has to be satisfied with whispers.

They do pull apart long enough to admire the view. And it really is amazing to be up so high and see the whole city laid out beneath them.

Once they’re on the ground, Betty has her guidebook out and she’s planning their next stop, but MJ is sensing that Peter is starting to fade. He’s still struggling to breathe deeply and he keeps pressing the heel of his hand against his ribs and wincing slightly.

Luckily, Ned has been paying attention. He announces that he’s starving and his feet hurt and he just needs to take a break. So they end up in a traditional English pub where they order far too much food even for four teenagers and Betty looks slightly disapproving.

When Betty gets up to go to the bathroom, Ned leans over the table to MJ. “You know he eats like a crazy amount of food when he’s healing, right?”

“So I’ve been told,” MJ grins at him.

“You know I can hear you?” Peter stage whispers.

“How bad was the pain?” Ned asks him matter-of-factly.

“Yesterday?” Peter considers. “About an 8. Today? Like 4 …”

Ned sizes him up with a practiced air – “So, you’re probably done for the day, aren’t you?” he guesses. “Back to your hotel … where are you staying by the way?”

“Oh my god,” Peter laughs. “You should see it – like a palace – how many bedrooms?” he asks MJ.

“At least three,” she says. “And horribly gaudy … rich people have absolutely no taste.”

“Too bad you can’t come back with us,” Peter grumbles.

Ned looks embarrassed. “I know, man, I’m sorry … but I just couldn’t leave her behind.”

Betty comes back to their table and wags her fingers at Peter and MJ. “You two are just too cute,” she says cheerily. “Now how did it happen? Tell all.”

They spend the next hour trying to distract a very determined Betty from asking difficult questions about why Peter is in London, but not staying with the school group and how come MJ is staying with him ... and where are they staying and how much did he hear about yesterday’s attack …

“It was all over the news,” Peter points out. “I’m glad everyone is OK.”

MJ and Peter catch a taxi back to their hotel. “You secret is TOAST,” she tells him grimly. “Betty is not stupid and she’s going to interrogate Ned until he folds like a wet paper bag.”

“I know,” he mutters, wincing. “I just can’t be mad at him. I get that he’s kind of an idiot around her.”

When they get back, Peter naps on the couch.

Happy checks in. “I knocked earlier and there was no answer,” he complains.

“We were probably busy,” MJ suggests with a meaningful look.

Happy scowls, opens his mouth, decides that he’d rather not know, and changes the subject.

When he wakes, Peter wants to get dressed up and go to a nice restaurant. MJ would prefer to watch Netflix in her sweatpants, but going on a real date seems important to Peter. They compromise by going to the restaurant in the hotel rather than wandering around London, but it’s fancier than anywhere she’s ever been to.

They drink ginger ale out of fancy glasses and eat elaborate food.

MJ half expects to be sneered at by the high end waiters, but they are professional and treat them with the utmost respect.

“I guess they know we’re staying in Stark’s suite?” MJ asks.

Peter shrugs. “It’s the kind of place where the kids of super rich people come so they’re not going to assume that we don’t belong just because we’re teenagers. If they accidently dissed a member of the royal family, they’d be fired, right?”

It’s discreet enough that Peter tells her about the spider bite and his adventures. MJ admits how she figured him out.

“So long?” he marvels. “You kept that quiet. I never guessed.”

“I was never sure,” she admits. “It was just so …”

“I know, right?”

Peter makes her feel completely at ease. He’s goofy and a bit clumsy, but also sweet and adoring.

**

It’s the middle of the night and pitch black when MJ wakes. She pauses, listening to the quiet. She is all alone. MJ climbs out of the bed and walks quietly into the living area.

“Peter?” she calls quietly.

The sliding door to the balcony is open and the drapes are fluttering in the wind.

Like New York, London never really sleeps; MJ can still hear traffic noises below, but it’s probably the quietest she’s ever heard the city. Everything is muted.

She checks the bathroom – the door is ajar and the lights are off. The other bedrooms are empty; the chain is on the door.

She nibbles on her fingernail wondering if she should call Happy.

And even as she’s considering it, she glances towards the balcony, worrying about that open door, and sees Peter drop from somewhere high to land gracefully on the balcony rail in his classic spider-man crouch.

He’s wearing nothing more high tech than a thin t-shirt and pajama pants.

MJ hugs herself.

Peter drops lightly to the balcony and re-enters the hotel suite.

“Hey,” he says softly, running fingers through his wild hair. He looks windswept and a bit manic.

“I … woke up and you weren’t here,” MJ explains.

“Sorry,” he says. “I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Nightmares?” she guesses.

“No,” he shakes his head. “I mean, yeah, I get them, but no, this is … this is something else. I’ve always been a bit like this.”

MJ steps a bit closer. “Like what?”

Peter sighs. “Distractible … scattered. You know, when I was a kid, the teachers always wanted me to be tested for … I don’t know, ADHD or something … it’s only gotten worse since … you know.”

MJ frowns.

“Right now, I can hear a baby crying from several blocks away,” Peter explains fretfully. “And I can smell that some guy is smoking on a balcony … and the lights … are all rainbows …” He pulls fretfully at his t-shirt. “My senses are in hyper drive.”

“I’m sorry,” MJ murmurs. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No,” he says. “I need something to focus on.”

MJ reaches out tentatively to touch his arm. To her surprise, Peter steps forward and hugs her, burying his nose in her hair. She hugs him back carefully, uncertainly.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t be,” she says softly.

They stay wrapped up in each other for a few minutes.

“If you were home, you’d go out on patrol, right?” MJ asks.

“Yeah,” he answers. “It helps me focus and sort of pull all the threads together. But, I can’t do that here.”

“Come to bed with me?” she suggests.

He nods and follows her to bed.

They settle into bed and it is Peter who reaches for MJ - cautious and careful, but eager. They kiss, their hands tangling in each other’s hair. MJ scoots closer, wrapping her legs around his.

They are getting better at this, she thinks.

In fact, they are damn good at it.

MJ shivers in delight and runs her hands down his body. She wants more, but she's not sure how to ask.

Peter kisses her fiercely, but he’s a gentleman; he strokes her back, but does not try to explore further.

MJ presses her body against his.

"Peter," she murmurs. She strokes the hand that is resting on her hip.

He kisses her jaw, nips at her neck.

MJ takes a big breath. "Peter," she whispers again.

"Mmmm?"

"Just to clarify," she says. "I'm not ... we're not ... ready for sex, right?"

"Whaaat ...?!" he exclaims pulling away from her, looking shocked. If she weren't holding his hand, she thinks he might have leapt out of bed, maybe onto the ceiling. "We're just ...?"

"I know," she says.

"Just kissing ..." he babbles. "I mean it was only like yesterday ... what makes you think?" His eyes are huge. "I never ..."

"I know," she says firmly, reaching up to kiss him again. She takes his hand and slides it up under her t-shirt to cup her breast.

"I want more," she whispers, "but I'm not ready for ... you know ... everything, all the way."

Peter takes a deep shuddery breath and focuses. He swipes his thumb carefully over her nipple. MJ shivers.

"I think my brain is fried," he says slowly. "You want this, but not ... sex? Nothing below the waist?"

"Yeah."

He nods. "Communication is good, right?"

MJ wiggles and tugs her t-shirt over her head.

Peter yanks his own shirt off roughly and drops it off the bed. He's not naked, his torso is still wrapped in thick medical bandages, but it's still lovely.

MJ runs her hands down every bit of skin she can reach. She nibbles at the hollow below his collarbone.

Peter kisses her and shifts so he's leaning over her. And then he slides down, kissing her neck, collarbone, breastbone and then gently, softly kisses her breasts.

"Oh my god," MJ whispers threading her fingers through his hair and arching her back. The stubble on his chin rasps against the delicate skin. 

She has never in her life been so turned on. Every nerve is humming.

Peter looks up at her. "Good?" he checks carefully.

"Oh fuck, yes," she confirms.

"I'm not sure this counts as not-sex," he says.

They kiss.

They touch each other (although only above the waist).

They eventually fall asleep wrapped around each other.

It's the best sleep MJ has had since she arrived in Europe, maybe even since she returned from being dusted.


	4. Miscommunication

It’s weird being back in school. It’s weird having new classmates. It’s weird hearing them talk about classes they took in recent years … new teachers, unfamiliar courses …

Math, science, English literature classes are all the same, but the school is promising a whole new curriculum on ‘recent events’ for the half of the student body who need it.

MJ calls Liz in Oregon. They chat, going through the usual pleasantries (yes, Liz was blipped as well). She’s at college in California and she has a boyfriend.

“I kissed Peter Parker,” MJ admits suddenly.

“Oh,” Liz says in surprise. “Oh wow. I did not see that coming.”

MJ waits.

“So …” Liz says gently. “How was it?”

“Are you upset?” MJ asks.

“Me? No, why would I be … oh there was nothing much between us,” Liz assures her quickly. “I mean we had one, ONE date and even that was a total disaster.”

MJ hums uncertainly.

“How was it? How was he?” Liz asks. “I guess that’s a bit personal. Will you kiss him again?”

“It was more than once,” MJ says softly. “I guess we’re kind of going out.” 

“Nice.”

“Did you know?” MJ asks carefully.

“About what?”

“About Peter? His secrets? About why he was so unreliable, missing practice and … uh … why he skipped out on Homecoming?”

There’s a long pause.

“Yeah,” Liz says quietly. “Not then, but I’ve figured it out since.”

“Oh.”

“He saved my life in Washington,” Liz says. “That goes a long way to forgiving him for … for being a bit flaky and skipping out on Decathlon and Homecoming and all of that.” 

“Right.”

“Did he tell you himself?”

“No, I figured it out for myself.”

“Ah ha.”

**  
The school is resurrecting some clubs that apparently didn’t operate during the blip. MJ agrees to lead the Decathlon; Ned takes on the Robotics club. Peter, Ned and MJ are the only blipped students to continue with decathlon. Flash is leading the Chess club instead.

Flash is twitchy around Peter – not nice, but not as nasty as usual. He watches Peter when he thinks no-one else is looking.

“It’s creepy,” Peter complains.

“He knows who you are,” Ned explains.

“What?” Peter looks shocked.

“Everybody who was on that Europe trip knows,” MJ pats him on the back.

Peter splutters.

“Except maybe the teachers,” Ned suggests. “They seem determined to be as oblivious as possible. Didn’t bat an eye when I stayed in Betty’s room in Prague.”

Peter is half distracted by that news, but he also wants to talk about how his secret can be OUT to dozens of students and no-one says anything.

MJ shrugs. “People think it’s cool.”

Peter looks around the cafeteria and lowers his voice. “How can I keep … superheroing … if people know who I am?”

“Keep doing nice things,” MJ suggests. “Isn’t that more important than a secret identity?”

**  
MJ is uncomfortable with overt displays of affection so they’re keeping their relationship quiet at school. Not secret (people know), but they’re not the type to walk around holding hands or making out under the bleachers. 

They don’t have lots of money so their dates are cheap. They go to the library and snuggle on the couch. They have a picnic in the park next to the big outdoor concert hall and listen to the music for free.

The three of them go to Peter’s apartment to study.

“Keep the door open!” May shouts.

“Ned is here too,” Peter grumbles, but he leaves the bedroom door open.

They have to work around Peter’s patrolling – he likes to mix it up so criminals can’t figure out a schedule. MJ goes to Ned’s house when Peter is out being Spiderman and Ned shows her his set up of multiple laptops so he can pretend to be doing homework while monitoring Peter.

“Keep the door open!” his mother calls.

“She’s Peter’s girlfriend!” he shouts back. But he props the bedroom door open anyways and offers MJ headphones.

“Hey,” she says softly when she’s pretty sure that Peter is sitting quietly on a roof, not swinging through the air. She wouldn’t want to distract him.

“MJ!” Peter exclaims. “Are you my guy in the chair tonight?”

“I guess so.”

Ned shows her how to keep an eye on Spiderman. When he knows roughly where Peter is, Ned can flip to CCTV cameras around the city and see his buddy in red spandex on a roof or swinging through the air.

Peter is _chatty_.

He narrates what he sees – a beautiful sunset, smashed windows, a rooftop garden, a cool car …

He sits on doorsteps and talks to elderly people.

He plays a quick game of basketball and picks the littlest kid up to dunk the ball. “Nice shot!” he congratulates the kid with a high five.  
The AI in his suit monitors police frequencies and directs Peter to intervene often long before the police can get there.

Most of what he does is pretty basic. He catches a guy trying to steal a bicycle. He carries groceries. He finds a lost child and reunites her with her mother. He rescues A LOT of cats. It’s not his favourite thing to do since the cats themselves do not appreciate being removed from their perches – they often spit and scratch at him.

But it’s also New York and sometimes Peter interrupts scarier things like muggings and assaults and robberies. Sometimes there are weapons and Peter is quick to disarm the bad guys and web the knives and guns to the wall.

He talks too much in times of stress – a playful, witty banter that masks his nerves. MJ quickly learns to judge just how stressful the situation is by how fast Peter talks. She stays quiet while he’s fighting then teases him playfully afterwards.

She accidently distracts him while he’s swinging or maybe he’s showing off a bit and he ends up crashing into a wall.

MJ winces and Ned laughs. “That’s going in the blackmail folder,” he tells Peter.

“Fuck you,” Peter grumbles, climbing out of the dumpster he’d fallen into. “I need better friends.”

“There’s a whole compilation of Spider-man fails on YouTube,” Ned explains to MJ with a wicked grin. “Tipping over porta potties, smashing into walls, getting tangled in his own webs …”

“Once!” Peter yells.

“Once on camera,” Ned corrects him.

“They’re sticky!”

Ned’s mom interrupts to offer them a huge platter of food – battered and fried.

Ned flips down the laptop that he was using to watch Spider-man and sighs. “Mom, I’m supposed to be careful about what I eat.”

“It’s a treat,” she says with a smile.

**  
The weather gets colder.

The students who were blipped get used to being back at school. Those who weren’t blipped get used to having them around.

MJ’s mom comes to dinner. It’s awkward and weird and difficult. MJ and her mom were blipped and in his grief, her dad turned to a neighbourhood friend – a woman with a young daughter. They got married, they moved into MJ’s dad’s apartment and the little girl got MJ’s room.

When they blipped back, MJ’s mom took one look at the situation and declared that she would not mess with a relationship that was clearly working.

“It’s not like everything was great before,” she told MJ bitterly. “I’m better off on my own and he’s clearly happy with his new partner.”

MJ moved in with her younger sister who has grown about a foot and become a teenager.

So when MJ’s mom comes to visit, she stirs up all kinds of emotion.

After she’s gone, MJ texts Peter. It’s late on a school night, but she thinks it’s one of his patrolling nights.

“Hey,” he texts back. “You OK?”

“Are you home?” she asks.

“Just got back in.”

MJ is sitting on the fire escape outside the big living room window. She frowns at her phone. It vibrates.

“Hey,” Peter says softly when she picks up. “It’s late for you to be up, what’s wrong?”

“Mom was here,” she explains. “Bit stressful.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Can I do anything?”

MJ is sorry that he’s home now, but it’s not reasonable to expect him to swing by. Her dad keeps walking by the window and making his ‘concerned’ face at her. What would he say if Spiderman were sitting on the fire escape with his daughter?

“Distract me,” MJ suggests to Peter. 

He laughs. “Oh we’re playing that game are we?” He puts on a fake sexy/sleezy voice and asks “What are you wearing?”

“I’m sitting outside on the fire escape,” she tells him tartly. “A better question is what are YOU wearing?”

“Just got out of the shower,” he says. “So … pajama pants and a t-shirt.”

“Are you alone?”

“In my room,” he confirms.

MJ hums. “So if we were to pretend that I was visiting …?”

“Oh we ARE playing this game?” he laughs. “Let me make sure my door is locked.”

MJ ponders. People joke about telephone sex all the time, but she really has no idea how to start.

"So ... ?" Peter asks. 

"So," she murmurs. "Let’s imagine that I somehow managed to come over to your house ... May isn't there ... it's dark ... I'm in your room ..."

"Uh huh," he whispers, his voice a little husker than usual.

"Remember when we were in London?"

"MJ," he laughs softly. "Sometimes it's all I can think about."

"So imagine that I'm taking my shirt off now," MJ says. "I'm just wearing jeans and my bra."

He groans.

"So now my jeans," MJ says. "I'm taking them off, nice and slow."

Her dad walks by the window and gives her a serious look; she waves him off.

"What colour is your bra?" Peter whispers.

"Red with black lace," she lies.

"Niice."

"Are you ... um ... excited?" she teases.

"Fuck MJ," he says. "Yes, I am hard."

"Are you touching yourself?"

"Yes."

"So, imagine that I'm climbing onto your bed," MJ suggests. "Straddling you. I'm going to kiss you."

"Fuck MJ, you're so hot," he says softly. "I thought I was supposed to be distracting you."

"This is fun," she says lightly.

"I keep thinking ... remembering when we were in London, and kind of wishing ..."

"We weren't ready to do more," MJ says.

"I know," he says quickly. "I mean, we'd only just sort of agreed to go out. What we did was waaaay more than I could have expected. But I keep remembering and wondering what it would be like to ... um ... you know, take it to the next step."

"I remember when you kissed me ... I mean my breasts and you were unshaven so your stubble kind of scratched."

"I don't remember that, but yeah, I'd been on the run a couple of days so shaving wasn't a high priority."

"You're so fair that I hadn't even noticed," MJ says. "I didn't know you could even grow a little beard."

"Ouch."

MJ hums. "So should we go back to our little fantasy?"

"Um, yes please," Peter says. 

"Is this reminding you of porn?"

Peter sighs. "I'm not going to lie and say I've NEVER, but I um ... kind of understand that porn is not a model for good sex. Cause it's all, you know, male point of view and all ..."

"Oh my God, have you been reading feminist authors?"

"Um ... yeah?"

"Now THAT'S sexy," MJ grins.

"Is now a good time to tell you that I went to the library and got a stack of books on intersectionality and feminist theory?"

"Oh fuck, Peter," MJ teases. "That is such a turn on. Now I'm so ..."

"Wet?" he asks breathlessly.

"Yeah."

“So imagine that I’m straddling you … I’m in your lap,” MJ whispers.

“Can I play with your hair?” he asks. “Is it loose?”

“You like my hair?”

“So sexy.”

“And I’m touching you,” she murmurs. “Imagine that it’s my hand on you right now.”

She can hear him breathing heavily.

Behind her, someone taps on the window. MJ glares at her dad who is pointing at his watch. "I gotta wrap this up," she tells Peter. "Are you close?"

"Right on the edge," he says, his voice husky.

"So imagine that I'm kissing you and reaching down to touch you ..."

"Mmmm ..."

She can hear the hitch in his breath as he gives a little gasp.

"Good?" she checks.

"Yes," he sighs softly. "Thanks, yes. I um ... good night I guess?"

MJ laughs. "Night Peter. Thanks for the distraction."

**

MJ likes to make lists. It’s how she keeps herself organized. It’s how she ranks and prioritizes tasks. And maybe her lists and spreadsheets are also ways to help her figure things out.

She starts to track the villains that Spider-man has been facing recently.

Most of them are run-of the-mill idiots, looking for a quick buck and too stupid to do anything right.

But there’s a new breed of crook in Queens - a slightly smarter, more elusive group that appears to be using fancier technology.

A lot of things ground to a halt during the Blip. Some tech companies went out of business simply because they lost their CEOs and/or star inventors. Others switched gears to deal with the crisis. 

So even as phones and most technology stayed static, somehow, weapons kept evolving.

MJ doesn’t know a lot about weapons, but she takes notes of the types that Spider-man is facing. She lists them by size and colour and apparent power (one of them blasts a door open when the bad guy tries to shoot Spider-man). She doesn’t tell Peter or Ned about her side project; she just keeps making lists.

**

Peter bounces into school and catches Ned at his locker.

“Look if MJ asks about Saturday, tell her that you’re busy, OK?” he says without preamble.

“Huh?”

“Just tell her that you’ve got something going on. Family stuff or something.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“OK.” Ned looks at him quizzically, but doesn’t pursue the conversation.

Peter catches MJ later in the day.

She has a strict rule about no PDA in school so he leans close enough that only she can hear what he’s saying, but not enough to violate her rule.

“So are you around Saturday?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“Want to come over?” he asks. “I’ve been working on my cooking skills. Made crème brulé last night and it was amazing – I ate like five.”

“Peter! That’s like solid sugar and cream.”

He shrugs. “I know.” But it’s him and he can eat anything.

“Yeah,” MJ says. “Sound like fun.

He leans a little closer.

“It’ll just be us,” he murmurs. “Ned’s got some kind of family thing and May is going up state to see an old college friend.”

MJ considers.

“Can you stay a bit later?” Peter asks.

“Saturday … might be a little problematic,” MJ admits carefully. “I might have a visitor so I could come for dinner and dessert, but maybe not stay after.”

“Oh,” Peter’s brow furrows.

MJ’s lab partner arrives and hovers uncertainly. “Gotta go,” MJ says to Peter. “See you later.”

Peter heads in the opposite direction.

They don’t see each other after school because it’s Peter’s day to go patrolling.

But they don’t see each other the next day either which is odd.

Ned plonks his tray down next to MJ at the cafeteria.

“What the hell?” he asks in frustration.

“What?” MJ responds.

“Did you and Peter fight?”

“No!”

“He’s being super weird. Spacey … jumpy.”

“I haven’t seen him since yesterday,” MJ admits.

Ned glowers.

Peter does not join them for lunch.

She goes looking for him after school and catches him on the subway platform.

“Everything OK?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he says casually, not really looking at her. He doesn’t try to kiss her either which is … odd.

She frowns.

The next day at school, she corners him. “What’s going on?”

He’s shifty. “Nothing.”

“Are we still on for dinner on Saturday?” she asks.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I mean if you want to … but not if you don’t want to … it’s not …”

A passing teacher interrupts them. “Parker!” he barks, “I still need that paper.”

Peter focuses on the teacher. “Yeah, yeah. It’s done. Let me find it.”

MJ stalks off, her brain whirling.

Peter does join them at lunch, but he’s distant and evasive.

“Got plans for the weekend?” Ned asks lightly.

“No, not really,” Peter mutters, shooting a quick glance at MJ.

“What are you doing on Saturday?” MJ asks Ned.

“It’s a family thing,” he says vaguely.

“Hmph,” she sniffs.

Peter successfully evades her for the rest of the day.

Ned grumbles. “He’s been patrolling every day this week,” he reports to MJ “and May even texted me to ask what’s going on with him. Seriously, did you fight? You’re not even doing that flirty thing you guys are always doing where you don’t touch, but you sort of gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes.”

“We don’t!”

“You totally do,” he nods earnestly. “It’s sickening. I keep waiting for you to drop all pretense and make out on top of the table.”

“I’ll fix it,” she promises.

She catches Peter Friday morning as he’s about to enter his first period class.

“Hey?” he says in surprise. “What are you doing here? Your first class is …?”

She grabs him and manhandles him, pushing him into a nearby locker.

“Oof!” he exclaims, which is ridiculous because he’s crazy strong and totally just letting her push him around.

She leans into him, pressing a knee between his legs and pinning his hands.

“You have been weird all week,” she accuses him.

“No,” he says, all wide-eyed and innocent.

“And I think I know why,” she cuts off his protests.

“Umm?”

“Saturday,” she whispers into his ear. “You had plans for Saturday.”

“Well …”

“Dinner and dessert and since it’s just the two of us, maybe some making out and maybe a bit of heavy petting …?”

“No!” he squeaks.

“Bullshit,” she says firmly. “You’re pissed because I said that Saturday won’t be a good time for sexy times.”

“It’s OK,” he says firmly. “You don’t have to …”

She shakes him, pushing him into the locker. Some passing students frown at them, clearly wondering what’s going on and if they should intervene.

“Sex,” she whispers into his ear and he shivers.

“You think because I said ‘no’ to sexy times on Saturday that I’m not interested in sex, right?”

“Don’t …”

“I’m going to keep saying ‘sex’ until you listen to me,” she threatens.

“It’s OK,” he says quickly. “We haven’t been going out that long, I don’t want to pressure you …”

She kisses him. She kisses him hard and fierce. To hell with the no PDA rule (it’s her rule anyways so she can break it if she wants to).

Then she pulls away and glares at him. He has that dozy, dazed, blissed out look on his face that he always gets.

“I’ll have my period on Saturday,” she says bluntly. “That’s why no sexy times.”

“Oh.”

“I mean I know it’s possible,” she explains. “But I don’t want to. It’ll be messy and you know …”

He flushes. “Yeah, yeah, of course. You could have just told me.”

“I did,” she points out. “But I used secret girl-language and I forgot that you wouldn’t understand since you don’t have sisters.”

“Right,” he says frowning.  
She kisses him again, letting go of his hands so it looks less like a hostage situation. He wraps his arms around her. The hallway has emptied out and then the door to the nearest classroom opens and a student calls “Parker! Are you coming to class or what?”

They separate somewhat unwillingly.

“I gotta go,” he says, looking dazed.

“Yup,” she agrees briskly. “See you at lunch.”

Ned gives her a thumbs up when she joins them at the cafeteria table. “You guys talked, right?” he asks. “He seemed better in English class.”

I’m right here,” Peter points out irritably.

Ned pretends to jump.

“Problem solved,” MJ answers coolly. “He just needed a little PDA.”

Peter snorts.

Ned scowls. “I hope that’s not going to be a thing,” he complains. “Your ga-ga eyes are more than enough as-is.”

“You have sisters and girl cousins, right?” MJ asks Ned.

He nods. “Uh huh.”

“So _hypothetically_,” she continues. “If one of them said – I can’t going swimming with you today because I have a friend coming …”

“Shark week,” he says promptly. “I don’t need details.”

“Jeez,” Peter grumbles.

“You live with your aunt May,” Ned points out. “She’s a GIRL.” 

“She doesn’t talk about that sort of stuff,” Peter retorts.

** 

She goes to his house for dinner on Saturday. She’s wearing a cute flirty little dress, but she has not bothered with make-up.  
He’s cleaned up the apartment and he’s wearing a nice t-shirt and jeans, but he hasn’t dressed up either. Good – so they’re on the same wave length.

The spaghetti dinner he cooks isn’t a masterpiece, but it’s tasty. May has left them a small bottle of red wine (she’s cool like that) and they each have a glass.

May is Italian and has little patience for American paranoia about alcohol. She believes that kids need to learn to drink moderately and responsibly under supervision so Peter has grown up having the occasional glass of wine or half bottle of beer with meals (sometimes).

“I’m not sure I can even get drunk,” he admits to MJ. “My metabolism would probably just burn through the alcohol. Would be an expensive waste.”

She tastes the red wine cautiously. It’s not enough to give her a buzz, but it’s interesting.

They talk. They laugh. He makes corny jokes. MJ can’t remember the last time they had time and privacy and the chance to just … hang out.

He lives with his aunt who works at home in the afternoons.

She lives with her father and step-mother and three sisters.

Most of their time is spent in quasi-public spaces – cafés, libraries, bookstores … They hold hands and they kiss and they talk, but they’re always careful. They’ve said sexy things to each other in private over the phone, but the distance is disappointing.

Even when they spend time at home, there are usually other people around like Ned or MJ’s sisters or May. And there are rules now about keeping bedroom doors open even though they’re just doing homework. Privacy is impossible.

He pulls out two pots of the crème brulé that he’s so proud of – sprinkles sugar on the top and broils them.

“Wow,” MJ has to agree at the first taste. “You should give up crime fighting and enter a few of those cooking shows.”

He grins delightedly.

After dinner they end up on the couch with Peter, half sitting, smooched up against the side, and MJ straddling him more or less. She’s buzzing whether from the wine or the company or the sense of illictness, she's not sure.

She tugs on his shirt and Peter whips it off so fast he might have torn it. Maybe he's a little keyed up as well.

She touches his chest lightly, a feather stroke and he arches into her touch and whimpers a little.

"Nice," she murmurs approval of his frankly criminally gorgeous body. Those are some abs.

"Thanks," he grins smugly. "Hours in the gym, you know."

"Phhht," she scoffs.

She kisses him. She slides her hand across his chest and notes how his nipple hardens under her touch. Cool that that happens to guys too. She pulls her skirt up and grinds against his jeans.

She kisses him, dipping her head to trail kisses down his neck, his collarbone, his chest. He hums in pleasure and cards his fingers through her curls.

The friction of the harsh denim of his jeans against her crotch is frankly very exciting. The thin cotton of her panties is damp. She rocks against him, getting into a rhythm.

Peter strokes his fingers along her bare arms. She knows that he's afraid of hurting her, of accidentally using too much strength, but she's more focused on the growing buildup of excitement and she closes her eyes as she clenches and searches for that elusive ... oh there it is ... she comes with a gasp.

She opens her eyes, breathing heavily to find Peter looking wide-eyed and amazed.

"_Seriously_?" he says.

"Yeah," she nods, her heart rate settling to a more normal rate.

"Just like that? You just ... "

"Yeah."

She climbs off his lap and tugs her skirt to a more respectable position.

Peter sprawls on the couch, wearing nothing but jeans and looking like a GQ model with mussed up hair and bright eyes.

"Can we ... like ... move to your room or something?" MJ suggests. "Cause I keep feeling like your aunt May is gonna come in any minute now."

"Yeah!" he agrees quickly, jumping to his feet. He leads her to his room which is slightly less messy than she'd expected but still decorated with cheesy science posters and Lego projects.

He reaches for her again and kisses her, his hand on her neck, then his fingers tugging gently at her curls.

She leans into him.

He pulls away for a moment. "So ... rules?" he asks. "Communication is good, right?"

She bites her lip and reaches behind to unzip her dress. "So, nothing below the waist," she says. "I'm super uncomfortable with doing anything like that tonight."

"Ok."

She drops the dress to the ground and stands before him in her best bra and panties - they're not lingerie, but they're pretty.

Peter looks like he's about to have a heart attack. She pokes him gently on the chest and he lies down on the bed, pulling her next to him.

"And you?" she asks.

"Um," he frowns. "I don’t think I have any ... um limits. You can do pretty much whatever you want ... I guess."

She traces a pattern across his bare chest, in a figure eight and then down to his bellybutton. There’s a faint line of wispy hair that goes from his bellybutton down into his jeans. She tugs on the waistband of his jeans.

He unfastens his jeans and pushes them down.

She's never seen him naked before.

Actually, she's never seen anyone naked before except in pictures and from quick peeks at naughty videos.

Peter seems nervous at her observation. He chews his lip nervously and watches her with bright wide eyes.

She lies down next to him and strokes his chest again, tracing patterns. She dances her fingers lower, around his bellybutton again a little further down ...  
He’s quiet, but breathing heavily.

She touches him tentatively and he gasps softly.

"Like this?" she asks, touching him lightly. She runs her finger along the length of his cock from base to tip and he closes his eyes, throwing his head back.

She explores curiously.

"Is this Ok?" she asks.

"Mmmh," he murmurs. "Maybe a bit more ... ah harder?" He takes her hand and wraps her fingers around his penis, showing her just the right amount of pressure.

"Ah," she smiles, following his lead.

She leans over to kiss him and he responds hungrily. She shifts, releases her grip, and leans over him, dropping kisses on his chest. Then she licks his chest and runs her tongue down his belly.

She kisses the base of his penis then licks his length as if he's an ice cream cone.

He makes a kind of inarticulate moan and threads the fingers of one hand through her curls.

She takes her time.

She licks and sucks gently and tries to avoid catching her teeth on the soft skin.

Peter moans softly. "Holy fuck, MJ," he says with feeling.

It's fun to elicit a reaction from him. MJ tries a few different things, testing how deep she can take him.

"Ah, MJ!" he gasps. "MJ, if you're gonna ... MJ, I gotta warn you ..."

She lets go with a little pop and leans away as he comes with a gasp.

MJ grins and snuggles up to him while he catches his breath.

"Holy ... shit," Peter groans. "That was something else. Thank you, I guess, I mean."

"That was fun," she grins.

"Yeah," he agrees, reaching for a towel to wipe himself off. Then he turns back to her and kisses her passionately.

Later he dresses in his Spider-man gear and covers it with loose track pants and a hoodie so he can walk her home.

They kiss on the door step of her apartment.

** 

Spider-man drops lightly from about three stories up to land in an alley between two restaurants. It’s a nice super-hero landing. Ten points.

“Dude – you again?” he jokes. “Didn’t I web you up like last week?”

The guys who are apparently facing off in the alley, turn slowly to face Spider-man. They’re both big guys and armed to the teeth. 

MJ is following along on the feed; next to her Ned frowns and taps the keyboard.

“Something’s not right here,” he says.

Spider-man walks towards them carefully, his hands up, palms out, signaling peace.

“Peter …” MJ murmurs in his earpiece. “Something’s funky …”

On screen, Spider-man gives no hint that anything is amiss, but the two bad guys are oh-so-slowly re-adjusting their long guns to aim at the spandex hero.

Spider-man cocks his head. “Rude,” he says lightly. “I thought you guys were fighting each other, but it looks like, you’re working tog …”

There’s a flash behind him and he ducks. The two guys aim their weapons at him and fire.

Back in Ned’s room, MJ fights the urge to scream and clutches the headphones instead.

She can’t see what’s going on and the feed to Peter’s microphone has cut out. Ned is furiously tapping, trying to get CCTV cameras in the area, but all they hear right now is fighting … thuds, crashes, a scream that is NOT Peter … 

And then there’s silence.

“Ah Peter,” Ned speaks carefully into his mike. “Bit of a tech problem here – we can’t hear anything.”

MJ rips off her headphones and paces.

There’s an excruciating wait in silence and then a click. “Hey …”

“Peter!”

“I’m good!” he says firmly. “Good! Don’t freak out.”

Ned scowls at MJ. “Where are you?” Do you need help?” Should I call Happy?”

“Nope!”

“Seriously Pete?”

MJ can hear Peter’s labored breathing. “Meet me at uhh … that café and bookstore on … uh?”

“I know it,” MJ snaps.

“Take the first aid kit!” Ned calls pointing to the red bag in the corner.

MJ snatches it up and runs … really runs, her heart pounding, weaving through crowds, scooting across streets against the red light.

She hesitates at the front of the café. He won’t be there in his Spider-man costume, will he? There’s an alley between the café. She steps warily around the big green dumpster. The smell is brutal.

“I’m here,” Peter says, his voice muffled.

MJ looks up and there is Spider-man climbing gingerly down the fire escape, his left arm held carefully against his body. 

He yanks at his backpack, webbed up on the wall and drops it carelessly on the ground.

“You’re hurt,” MJ says flatly.

“I’m fine,” he argues, still holding his arm awkwardly. “Just … a little banged up. I heal fast though. I don’t need the first-aid kit.”

MJ considers. Peter lives with May. MJ adores May, she thinks that she’s amazing, but May is also … somewhat prone to yelling and over-reacting.

And Peter’s best friend is Ned – again, a real sweetheart, a great stand-up guy in the chair. But, also, like May, a bit of a drama queen, prone to excited squeals and pretend faints.

Maybe he needs a bit of calm. She takes a big breath.

“Promise me something,” MJ says.

“Huh?”

“I won’t freak out at minor injuries and stuff if you promise to tell me when something is really serious,” MJ offers.

It’s hard to read his expression behind the mask, but Peter cocks his head to the side. “OK,” he agrees. Then he sighs. “I might have dislocated my shoulder,” he admits. “I need your help.” 

“OK.”

He pulls off the mask and pushes a button to release the suit.

“Here,” he explains, “grab my elbow here, put your other hand here, now pull, slowly and steadily across my body …”

MJ tries to ignore the fact that Peter is standing before her, in an alley, mostly naked, just wearing his boxers. She follows his directions, gripping his elbow firmly and pulling gently.

“Keep going,” he murmurs, his face scrunched up.

Suddenly, the resistance releases and the shoulder slips into place.

Peter yelps quietly and then grins. 

“OK?” MJ checks.

“It worked. Thanks.”

She turns around to let him dress in private, but does peer upwards to see how many windows overlook the alley. Not many as it turns out – he’s chosen a pretty secluded alley.

“What did you get hit with?” she asks with her back still to him. “Was it a new weapon?”

“Is this for your spreadsheet?”

“What?”

He laughs. “Like I don’t know …”

MJ sighs. “Yeah. I just like to keep track. Maybe it will come in handy one day.”

“They looked like regular weapons, but they were way more powerful,” Peter reports. “There was a blue flash when they fired.”

MJ turns around. Peter is fully dressed and stuffing his suit into his backpack. “Thanks for being cool about my shoulder,” he says softly and leans in to kiss her.

She ruffles his hair playfully – it’s damp and unruly.

She texts Ned to say that Peter is OK and then they go next door to the café for a hot drink before heading home.

**

MJ texts Peter again. It’s late, but he’s a night owl.

His AI responds … “Peter says hello. How are you?”

She remembers that Ned is not monitoring Peter tonight – he has a date or something so Spider-man is out patrolling with just Karen keeping an eye on him.

“Are you busy?” she asks. “I’m feeling a bit lonely.”

“Peter says that it’s a quiet night,” Karen responds.

MJ frowns at her phone. She has no interest in a conversation with Peter via AI. A few minutes later, the phone vibrates.

“Hey,” Peter says, his voice faintly muffled. “You’re lonely?”

“My sister Claire has gone to a sleepover so I’m sleeping alone tonight,” MJ tells him.

She can hear the wheels in his brain whirring. “Can I come over?” he asks.

“No!” she laughs. “Sorry. Dad and Lorraine are in the living room and there’s no way you can get through my bedroom window.”

“Let me call you back,” he says.

MJ scowls at her window – not only is it high, but it’s small AND there are bars. There’s no way 

Peter is going to try to squeeze through, is he?

He calls back a few minutes later, sounding less muffled.

“Where are you?” MJ asks.

“In a spiderweb hammock on a roof,” he says lightly. “I’m tucked away so no-one can see me.”

“OK.”

“So what are you wearing?” he asks in his best Joey Tribbiani voice.

MJ smirks. “We’re playing that game?”

“Your turn,” he says lightly.

MJ grins in the dark. “I’m wearing …” she teases, “a silky pink slip.”

“Seriously?” he squeaks.

“No,” she laughs. “But this is just pretend, right?”

"Right," he agrees. "Oh that reminds me ... Karen, please stop recording. In fact, turn off all monitoring and I'll turn you on manually later."

"This is against protocol," Karen says prissily.

"I'm overruling the protocols," Peter says firmly. "Shut down all monitoring."

MJ giggles. "Are you seriously being monitored?"

“I was before,” Peter grumbles. “Tony had no sense of boundaries.”

“What sort of things?”

“Heart rate, blood pressure, respiration …”

“That’s crazy.”

“That was Tony,” Peter agrees. “If he were around now, he’d be tapping into my earpierce and saying - what’s up kid? Your heart rate is through the roof …”

“And you don’t think anyone is watching any more?”

"I'm not sure," he admits. "I don’t think Happy is watching that closely. The few times I've needed him, I've had to call him directly."

"And no one will worry that you've just turned it off?"

"If Tony were alive, he'd be in his suit looking for me at my last known location," Peter says. "But I don’t think there's a giant red alarm at Avengers headquarters saying attention, attention! Spider-man has gone offline."

"Good," MJ says. "So we can say sexy things to each other and no one will overhear? "

"That's my plan," Peter agrees.

They know a bit more about each other now. Peter urges her to tell him what she’s doing as she snuggles under the covers and touches herself.

“I really, really want to find some time to be alone with you,” Peter sighs. “Can we go back to London?”

“A cheap motel off the highway might be affordable,” she teases.

He laughs.

**

Peter bounces into school, eyes bright, holding a fat white envelope. “You’re gonna love this!” he assures MJ.

He slides it across the table at lunchtime.

She frowns as she opens it. It appears to be an invitation printed on thick card stock along with a long letter, but before she can read it though, Ned is pulling it away and exclaiming in delight … “Wow! Stark Gala!”  
“Yup!” Peter nods. “And I checked with Happy – I’m definitely invited, Pepper Potts asked for me specially!”

MJ pulls the letter back, but Peter taps the bottom of the invitation itself, “See – says here all expenses paid!”

“Can I read it, please?” she snaps.

“So cool!” Ned exclaims. “It’s like the Stark Expo with exhibits and demonstrations!”

“I went to the Stark Expo once when I was a kid,” Peter says.

Ned snatches the invitation away and reads it. “Says here you can bring guests … oh man Peter!”

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly. “You can come right, MJ?”

She looks at the date, at the details, at the address of the resort. “I’m not sure my Dad will let me,” she says slowly.

“What did May say?” Ned asks Peter.

“Not much,” Peter says, watching MJ carefully. “I just told her the date and she was like, OK.”

That’s one of the big differences between them – Peter doesn’t ask May if he can go, he just says he’s going. MJ is pretty sure her Dad is not going to be so laidback.

“I wonder if any Avengers will show up?” Ned asks breathlessly.

She reads the details more carefully. She’s going to need a strategy.

When MJ gets home, her step-mom Lorraine is starting to work on dinner.

“Can I help?” MJ offers.

Lorraine nods and sets her to chopping vegetables.

MJ has tried to work things out with Lorraine. When she’s being rational, MJ knows that Lorraine didn’t mean to create waves. She was a single mother who started a relationship with a man who had lost his wife and one daughter in the Snap. She’d supported him and helped him through his grief and married him in good faith.

It was not her fault that the Snap was reversed.  
It was not her fault that her new husband was having to sort out a difficult relationship with his wife.

Or that she now had three step-daughters instead of two.

MJ chops and dices quietly then she clears her throat. “I was wondering if you could help me with something?” she asks.

“Hmmm?” Lorraine answers.

“You know my boyfriend? Peter?” MJ starts. “You know he works for Stark industries?”

“Uh huh.”

“And they have this big year-end event – a gala?”

“Ok.”

“And he wants me to go with him.”

“Alright.”

“And they have a lot of low income kids on scholarship so everything is paid for – food, travel, dresses, accommodation ... the whole thing.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“Dad is being a bit … well over protective these days so I’m not sure he’s going to want me to go,” MJ explains. “The gala goes late and it’s upstate so we’re invited to stay at this … resort.”

Lorraine stops cooking and peers carefully at MJ. “You want to go to a big fancy party with your boyfriend and spend the night in a hotel?”

MJ nods.

“I didn’t realize that you were at that stage,” Lorraine says mildly.

MJ shrugs, hoping that her blush is not obvious.

“What are you using for protection?”

“Um … condoms?”

Lorraine goes back to cooking. MJ finishes chopping and slides the board across the counter.

“I’ll talk to your Dad on two conditions,” Lorraine says.

“Uh huh?”

“One – we meet this boy properly. Go for dinner with him.”

“Ok.”

“And two – you go to Planned Parenthood and chat to them about a better, more effective means of contraception. Condoms are fine to start with, but the Pill or an IUD would be better long-term.”

MJ takes a deep breath. “Yeah sure – thanks.”


	5. Stark party

MJ has never given much thought to parties. Her parents used to host them on occasion – staid, proper events with cheap alcohol and microwaved frozen hors d’oeuvres. She’s been to teen parties with pounding music and coolers full of bad beer and wine spritzers.  
  
The Stark event is on a completely different level … a whole other stratosphere … it will probably ruin her for all other festive events forever.  
  
It starts with the fact that the invitation comes with a credit card inviting her to shop at one of the most exclusive fancy dress stores in Manhattan. She takes her little sister Claire along and comes away with a cute, flirty lavender dress that will do double-duty for prom.  
  
It continues with being driven to the event by a private chauffeur.  
  
Peter holds her hand as they enter the resort.  
  
“Wow,” she murmurs.  
  
He has come prepared for sensory overload and is wearing funky tinted glasses that apparently reduce visual stimuli and ear buds that muffle sound. She teases him in the car about doing the opposite of what every geek-to-hottie movie has ever suggested.  
  
“Usually they tell people to take their glasses OFF,” she says, poking him playfully. But she doesn’t complain, because his version of sexy nerd is very hot.  
  
He grins at her and her heart flutters nervously.  
  
The party is half concert / half Stark Expo.  
  
The venue is dark and decorated with soft blue lights. The crowd is young – she no longer assumes that she and Peter are the only high schoolers present – the average guest looks to be about 21.  
  
The main event happens soon – awards are presented to about half a dozen all-star Stark employees. Each winner is introduced by their mentor and a brief video presentation that outlines their work – cutting edge research on green energy, medical breakthroughs, reducing deforestation …  
  
MJ leans over to Peter. “I feel so inadequate,” she whispers.  
  
“Me too,” he nods. “If they starting asking why we’re here, let’s make a run for it.”  
  
The winners are hardly any older than Peter and MJ and many are introduced as undergraduates at local universities.  
  
“I feel like I’ve wasted my life already,” she mutters.  
  
People give speeches – short, succinct, inspiring calls to action.  
  
Famous scientists and engineers speak and are greeted by ear-splitting cheers. MJ has little idea of who most of them are, but she can tell from his rapt attention that Peter recognizes them and understands their significance.  
  
Pepper Potts gives the closing speech talking about how her husband Tony Stark had a vision of empowering young people to change the world.  
  
It is a rousing speech that has attendees standing and clapping for long minutes even after her departure.  
  
After that, they wander around.  
  
The food is amazing, both from the never-ending buffet and from the waiters weaving their way through the crowds with plates of food. There are waiters offering quirky non-alcoholic cocktails and in a nod to the age of the crowd, the people who are old enough for alcohol have to wear bracelets that they scan at the bar if they want booze.  
  
There is a hallway full of art on display – apparently created by Stark youth employees.  
  
There are displays of scientific discoveries that look like a cross between the fanciest high school science fair in history and a Stark Expo – also apparently presented by Stark youth employees.  
  
After the award ceremonies, the music starts up. MJ is grateful for Peter’s sake that they don’t blast rock music through the whole venue but set aside a room where people can go and dance to pounding heavy metal. In another room, there is a live band playing and a crowd of people trying various ballroom dances.  
  
Peter’s eyesight is extraordinary and his hearing is so good he can eavesdrop on conversations in the next room. MJ can only imagine how difficult it is to deal with flashing lights and pounding music with such senses. But so far, his sensory muffling glasses and ear buds seem to be working.  
  
They wander through the crowds. People are friendly. MJ dreads being quizzed on why she is there (she feels like such an imposter), but no-one asks. They all seem to assume that anyone in the room deserves to be here.  
  
There’s a display of molecular food where a young chef explains that he’s trying to mimic the taste of common foods while presenting them in completely different ways. MJ tastes something that looks like meat on a cracker, but tastes like apple.  
  
Peter tastes from a plate of ‘small bites’ and wrinkles his nose. “I can still taste the chemicals that they’re made of,” he grumbles.  
  
MJ finishes off his plate. The foam tastes like chocolate and the cheese-like slab tastes like tomato – it’s all rather disorientating.  
  
They chat with young scientists at their exhibits. Everyone is young and keen and wildly enthusiastic. MJ talks to a young woman who is a ballerina studying to be a marine biologist.  
  
“The idea that people have to choose between science and art is so ridiculous,” she says passionately.  
MJ can only agree.  
  
They stop at an interactive robotics display and play a rousing game of remote-controlled football.  
  
Peter stops at one of the science exhibits to talk to the presenter. In moments the two of them are engrossed in a conversation about bio-engineered organic compounds that leaves MJ feeling like they are speaking a completely different language.  
  
She wanders off to watch the ballroom dancing.  
  
“Would you care to dance?” a young man asks her.  
  
“Oh no,” MJ demurs. “I don’t … I don’t know how.”  
  
“That’s what I’m here for,” he assures here. “Not many of the guests know how to dance, but if you’ll let me show you …”  
  
She gives him a sideways look. He reminds her of a young Diego Luna, but he seems legit.  
  
“Like lessons?” she asks dubiously.  
  
“No,” he assures her. “More fun than that.”  
  
She takes his hand and he leads her onto the dance floor with dozens of other pairs. He shows her some moves and they rhumba around the dance floor. Everyone is laughing and stepping on toes and bumping (gently) into each other.  
  
By the time the music ends, MJ is breathless.  
  
“Thank you,” she laughs. “That was fun.”  
  
“Any time,” he says with a slight bow.  
  
She grabs a fancy cocktail from a passing waiter and contemplates the paintings in the art display. There is a massive banner that proclaims that art and science are two sides of the same coin and should not be in conflict.  
  
“You looked like you were having fun,” a man says softly to her.  
  
“Oh I was,” she agrees cheerily. “I always wanted to learn how to dance.”  
  
She turns to face an extremely handsome African-American man and just about chokes on her drink. Sam Wilson, her long-time, long-distance, Avenger crush is smiling at her.  
  
“Care for another spin around the dance floor?” he asks her lightly. “I’m not quite as nimble as those guys, but I’m not TERRIBLE.”  
  
MJ pulls herself together. “Yes, yes,” she babbles. “Yes, I would love to.” She chugs her drink and sets it aside.  
  
He is good, better than good – he is very, very good. They chat; they flirt (just a little bit), he guides her carefully around the room. She only steps on his toes a few times. He makes her laugh.  
  
“Where do you go to school?” Sam Wilson asks her. “If you don’t mind my asking.”  
  
“Mid-town Tech,” she says. “I’m still in high school.”  
  
“I know it,” he nods. “My cousin graduated from there. Full of smart kids.”  
  
“Umm … yeah.”  
  
At one point she peers over his shoulder to see if Peter has noticed and he is watching her. He gives her a thumbs up and she barely resists giggling.  
  
At the end of the dance, Falcon smiles and nods and kisses her hand before making an excuse to leave.  
  
MJ floats dreamily over to Peter.  
  
“That looked like fun,” he grins at her.  
  
“Oh yes,” she fans herself. “He’s like ten times more attractive in person and funny as hell and not the slightest bit creepy … oh shit … I shouldn’t be saying such things about another man to my boyfriend, should I?”  
  
Peter shrugs. “Would it improve things if I were a jealous dick about it?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Well then,” he grins. “Looks like I’m still winning since you’ve come back to me.”  
  
She loves that he understands her so well. “Well, he’s also old enough to be my dad,” she points out. “He was nice enough and all, but if he’d really tried to make a move, I think I would have been grossed out.”  
  
She chugs the rest of her drink, feeling slightly light-headed and idly wondering if the drinks are as ‘virginal’ as advertised.  
  
“Come dance with me?”  
  
Peter doesn’t know how to dance formally, but they are happy enough to put their arms around each other and sway around the dance floor.  
  
“In the interests of fairness,” she asks. “Are there Avengers that _you_ would go ga-ga over?”  
  
Peter grins. “Well, I was always fascinated by Black Widow,” he admits. “But I never got the chance to meet her. Captain Marvel was pretty bad-ass, but honestly so intimidating that I don’t think I could call her a crush.”  
  
He pulls her a little closer and his lips brush her neck. “You’re so far out of my league, I think I’m just lucky I have you,” he murmurs. “Don’t need to look at an Avenger.”  
  
She kisses him. “You’re a superhero,” she reminds him.  
  
“I don’t think that matters in this crowd,” he says.  
  
“This has been fun,” MJ says thoughtfully, “But I’m wondering if maybe … we want to think about getting out of here?”  
  
He nods. “Let’s go find our room.”  
  
Ever since she accepted this invitation, she’s been thinking of what happens AFTER the party.  
  
They are halfway to the exit when Happy looms out of the crowd. “Kid!” he calls, waving.  
  
Peter frowns.  
  
“Kid!” Happy insists. “Come here. There’s someone who wants to meet you.”  
  
“Who?”  
  
MJ barely resists squealing in surprise as the one and only Pepper Potts emerges out of the crowd and holds out her hand to Peter.  
  
Happy waves lazily at him, “Peps, this is Peter. Peter – Ms. Pepper Potts.”  
  
Potts is taller and more elegant than MJ expected. She is gorgeous and impeccably dressed, but up close, MJ can see fine lines around her eyes and mouth and senses that Ms. Potts is sad and more fragile than her public persona implies.  
  
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” Pepper says with a smile. “I’m glad you made it.”  
  
Peter nods shakily and babbles something about how nice it is to see her … uh meet her …  
  
“And this is MJ,” Happy says gruffly. “Or Michelle or whatever she’s calling herself today.”  
  
“MJ,” MJ clarifies shaking the hand of her idol.  
  
“I’ve heard about you,” Pepper says sweetly. “So glad you could come. I hear you keep the science boys in line.”  
  
“Um yeah,” MJ nods. “This has been fun. You throw a really great party.”  
  
“It’s partially for recruitment,” Pepper says with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Peter, I’m hoping you’ve been inspired by these guys. Maybe I’ll see you up on stage next year?”  
  
“Oh no,” he says uneasily. “It’s not really what I … um … do for the company.”  
  
“I know you don’t spend a lot of time in our labs,” she says. “Your stuff is more hands-on, out on the streets, right? But maybe you might consider working in our labs part-time when school is out?”  
  
“I … ah …”  
  
“I know who you are,” she cuts across his babbling.  
  
“Um …?” he freezes, his eyes wide.  
  
“Tony had high hopes for you,” she says softly.  
  
Happy taps her on the shoulder, “Pep …”  
  
“Yes, yes,” she nods. “I’ve got to go. Peter and MJ – you’re staying the night? I’ll see you in the morning?”  
  
“Um yeah.”  
  
“Ok – bye then.”  
  
They hold hands as they leave the party and navigate the hallway towards their room.  
  
“That was surreal,” Peter says. “I never met her before. Except for at the funeral and that was just for a moment.”  
  
“You can’t be surprised that she knew though, right?” MJ says. “I mean, of course he told his wife.”  
  
Peter shrugs. “I never really knew how much he talked about me, if at all. Secret identity and all.”  
  
They find their room with little trouble. It is nothing like the elaborate over-gilded palace that they had stayed in in London, but a plain, basic suite with a large bed and big window. It is blessedly quiet.  
  
MJ grabs her bag and heads to the bathroom, her heart thudding. She washes her make-up off and pulls the pins out of her hair. She brushes her teeth and stares at her reflection in the mirror.  
  
She goes back into the room and stops in surprise.  
  
Peter is on the ceiling.  
  
OK – she’s seen him do this before, in YouTube videos and when they’ve been fooling around with Ned (who likes to throw food at Peter while he’s upside down to see if he can catch the morsels).  
  
But it’s still a little startling.  
  
Peter notices her and drops his feet, dangling by one hand. “Hey,” he grins, dropping down. “Sorry. I was just checking to make sure there’s no surveillance. Don’t want to be paranoid, or anything, but this is Tony’s … umm … resort. And you know what he was like about privacy. Or his lack of respect for it.”  
  
MJ merely raises her eyebrows.  
  
He’s removed his tinted glasses and the earbuds as well as his tie and jacket and shoes. His shirt is unbuttoned at the collar  
  
“And we’re good?” she asks drily.  
  
“Yeah,” he smiles. He approaches carefully. “I can’t remember if I told you that you are amazingly beautiful – the most beautiful girl at the party …”  
  
MJ smiles back at him. “Thanks.”  
  
He kisses her, soft and sweet. She leans into him, sliding her hands under his shirt. She unbuttons his shirt slowly, deliberately. She’s nervous, but at least Peter is taking it slow, not rushing her and trying to tear off her clothes.  
  
MJ’s done her research. Or at least as much as is possible. It’s surprising hard to find good advice on losing your virginity. Porn is a non-starter, but surprisingly fanfiction is also pretty terrible – every story has the characters knowing exactly what to do and having mind blowing orgasms. Sex advice writers like Savage Love are entertaining, but not very specific – “take it slow and ask what your partner likes” is hard advice to follow when neither person knows anything. How can you tell your partner what you like, when you don’t know?  
  
Peter unzips MJ’s pretty dress and she steps out of it, trembling a bit in nervousness.  
  
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers.  
  
She tugs at his pants and he undresses easily, apparently more comfortable being naked than she expected – possibly a side effect of stripping in alleyways?  
  
He pulls her onto the bed and they lie entwined, kissing, and touching.  
  
She touches him and he shivers. “Too much?”  
  
“Everything’s too much,” he admits. “Kinda wish I could tone down all senses for a bit.”  
  
She strokes him again and watches his reaction. He closes his eyes and sighs.  
  
Eventually, he pushes her hand away. “Sorry … I just …”  
  
“It’s OK.”  
  
He rolls over and kisses her hard and fiercely. Then he fiddles with her bra and grins when the clasps give way. MJ wiggles out of her panties.  
  
“Show me?” Peter asks.  
  
“I have no idea,” she snorts. “I mean I know what I like when I … you know … but …”  
  
He touches her carefully, gently. MJ bites her lip. “Like this?” he asks.  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
They experiment. They touch each other. “A little more,” MJ murmurs.  
  
They giggle when Peter fumbles the condom. “Guess I should have practised,” he grumbles.  
  
He’s sweet and gentle. MJ digs her fingers into his biceps and buries her nose into the hollow at the base of his neck. It’s interesting, fascinating to feel him inside her. To feel his excitement as he trembles.  
  
“Oh wow,” he whispers. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

_ __ _

In the morning, MJ stirs when Peter leaves with a kiss. Then she burrows under the covers and sleeps for a while longer enjoying the delicious feeling of having nothing to get up for.  
  
Eventually she gets up, puts on a sundress and goes looking for breakfast.  
  
The wing that they are in is quiet, no sign of the hundreds of other guests from the party. MJ rounds a corner and finds the same smoking hot Avenger – Sam Wilson -- looking good in a pair of faded jeans and a white shirt, perusing the breakfast buffet.  
  
She must have made a sound because he looks up and smiles, his eyes crinkling. “Why good morning,” he says gruffly. “You’re the girl in the lavender dress, aren’t you?”  
  
“Yes,” she answers, grabbing a plate. She needs coffee to deal with this level of surreal.  
  
“The croissants are fresh,” he advises.  
  
“It’s awfully quiet,” MJ notes. “Where is everyone else?”  
  
He gives her a sideways look. “I was about to ask how you ended up on this side,” he says. “The other guests are at the hotel – this wing is invitation only. Who are you exactly?”  
  
“I’m no-one,” MJ answers quickly, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “But I’m here with my boyfriend, who is ... was … a kind of protégé of Tony Stark’s.”  
  
Sam looks intrigued. “What’s his name?”  
  
“Peter Parker.”  
  
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Sam says idly.  
  
MJ shrugs and heads towards the open door. On the other side, she can hear a child shrieking in delight. Sam walks with her.  
  
She freezes in the doorway.  
  
Peter is standing waist deep in the pool holding a young, dark-haired girl who looks to be about five years old.  
  
“Again! Again!” she squeals. “Higher!”  
  
Peter tosses her high in the air – far higher than anyone should be able to throw a child. The girl screams and flaps her arms like wings and Peter catches her easily, laughing.  
  
“Again! Again!” she screams, breathlessly.  
  
And he obliges, tossing her so high she could probably look into second-storey windows.  
  
Sam gives MJ a sideways look. “That’s your boyfriend?” he asks.  
  
MJ bites her lip wondering just how much she can tell him. She watches Peter toss the child as easily as someone else might throw a ball. Actually, he has far more control than an average person tossing a ball. The girl goes straight up and comes down into his arms with ease.  
  
What must it be like to have to hide such strength? MJ wonders.  
  
What would Flash say if he witnessed such a display?  
  
It’s not for her to remind him that he’s basically giving away his secret with this game, but probably Peter already knows.  
  
He catches the child one more time and grins at MJ.  
  
“Morgan!” Pepper Potts calls. She’s lounging on a deck chair by the side of the pool wearing a teensy-tiny bikini. “Give Peter a break.”  
  
The little girl sighs and paddles away from Peter to the edge of the pool.  
  
MJ sits on the edge of the pool to eat her breakfast and drink her coffee. Peter swims over and leans against her legs.  
  
“I had breakfast with Helen Cho,” he says dreamily.  
  
The name rings a bell, but MJ is not sure exactly who she is.  
  
“She wants me to work with her this summer,” Peter explains. “Incorporating bio-technology into medical research.”  
  
“So a real internship?”  
  
“A job,” he corrects her. “She was asking me about my web compounds.”  
  
“So everyone here already knows who you are?” MJ threads her fingers through his damp hair.  
  
“I’m not sure,” he admits. “I don’t mind though. These guys won’t tell the press.”  
  
She finishes her breakfast and swims for a bit. Peter teaches Morgan how to flip backwards into the pool and catches her every time.  
  
Sam comes and sits at the side of the pool. “I keep wondering where I know you from,” he says idly to Peter.  
  
Peter grins cheekily.  
  
“It’s the voice,” Sam says. “Reminds me of someone …”  
  
Peter cocks his head. “Your wings are made of carbon fiber, or something, right?” he asks.  
  
Sam laughs. “Jeez kid! You’re the Spider …?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Sam eyes him. “Mind if I ask how old you are?”  
  
“Seventeen.”  
  
“So you were …. what … fifteen in Germany?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Jeez kid. Stark should be ashamed.”  
  
Peter shrugs and averts his eyes.  
  
Sam squints at him. “So you’re still running around Queens, right? Getting cats out of trees and stuff?”  
  
“Pretty much.”  
  
“Are you thinking of joining the big leagues? Helping out the Avengers again if we need you?”  
  
“I’m willing,” Peter says warily. “But I’m happy just being a local guy for now.”


	6. dat ass

MJ meets up with Ned at the front entrance of Peter’s building. He’s juggling a large cardboard box; she’s holding a cardboard tray with three large coffee cups in it.  
  
“I heard sirens,” Ned greets her. “Wanna bet he’ll be a bit late?”  
  
“I’d be a fool to take that bet,” she answers. “Should we go wait somewhere else?”  
  
“No, I’ve got a key to his apartment,” Ned answers. Of course – as Peter’s guy-in-the-chair, he’d need a key.  
  
“How was the Stark event?” Ned asks in the elevator.  
  
“Amazing,” MJ admits although she’s not sure how effusive she should be since it seems cruel to rave over a party that Ned had desperately wanted to attend.  
  
MJ knocks just in case while Ned fumbles the box as he’s trying to reach for the keys.  
  
From inside, they hear a crash and a muttered curse. They freeze, frowning. MJ puts her ear to the door.  
  
“Peter?” MJ asks, knocking again.  
  
“Hey!” Peter answers from the other side, his voice sounding a bit muffled. “Is it just you?”  
  
“Me and Ned,” MJ answers. “Otherwise the coast is clear.”  
  
He opens the door and ushers them in quickly. He’s dressed in his Spider-man get-up, the window is open, and the armchair is tipped over on its side. Easy enough to guess what has just happened.  
  
Ned laughs and puts the box down so he can fist bump Spider-man. “Hey man!”  
  
They do their silly, secret handshake.  
  
MJ puts the coffee cups down on the counter.  
  
Peter yanks the hood off. He’s flushed and a bit sweaty and breathing heavily. His eyes are bright. He reaches for MJ and kisses her, hard and eager and certainly more enthusiastically than usual when in someone else’s presence.  
  
She resists the urge to squeak with surprise and instead just leans into him.  
  
They come up for air and she runs her fingers thoughtfully over his chest. He’s wearing his slightly older model red suit (not the fancy Ironman-inspired bullet-proof one) and it’s the first time she’s seen this one up close and personal. It’s very … uh … form fitting.  
  
He grins as if he knows exactly what she’s thinking. “I’ll just go have a quick shower,” he promises and dashes off, tipping the armchair up with a quick flip of his wrist.  
  
Ned rolls his eyes at MJ. “He says it’s _aerodynamic_,” he says in a tone that clearly implies that Ned knows perfectly well what the appeal of that particular suit is.  
  
They settle in with popcorn and an array of healthy of snacks (vegetables, crackers, hummus, babaganoush) to work on their final science project of senior year.  
  
MJ sketches out an outline while Ned and Peter plan how to build a model.  
  
Ned asks about the party and Peter describes it enthusiastically. “You should have seen the science exhibits,” he raves.  
  
Ned hums in delight as Peter lists the famous speakers and describes the cool science experiments.  
  
“Oh almost forgot!” Peter exclaims, pulling out a business card from his pocket. “Got you an interview with the guy who runs the robotics lab – next Wednesday.”  
  
“Man!” Ned exclaims in delight.  
  
They work diligently for quite a while and make good progress, but at a certain point, Peter pushes the box away. “I can’t focus,” he announces. “My eyes are going blurry.”  
  
“Tell me more about the party,” Ned says easily. “Who else did you see? Any Avengers?”  
  
Peter snuggles up to MJ and puts his feet up in Ned’s lap. He’s tactile – always needing physical contact. Ned seems not to mind, but MJ is still getting used to it. She shifts so his head is on her shoulder.  
  
“MJ danced with Sam Wilson,” Peter reports.  
  
“Cool!” Ned says.  
  
“And I hung out with Pepper Potts and Morgan – Tony’s daughter -- the next morning by the pool,” Peter says.  
  
“What is she like?” Ned asks. “Potts, I mean.”  
  
“Beautiful,” Peter replies.  
  
MJ hums in agreement.  
  
Peter twists to see MJ’s face. “A little sad, maybe?”  
  
“That’s what I thought” she agrees.  
  
“She knew about me,” Peter says softly. “Told me all kinds of things. Said Tony … said Tony … kind of saw me as a kind of adopted kid …?”  
  
“You’re surprised by that?” MJ asks him gently.  
  
Peter scowls and scrunches down so his head is in MJ’s lap and his feet are up on Ned’s armrest. “It’s weird,” he admits. “I don’t think he thought much of me before we … uh … went to space, but I guess he did after.”  
  
He hasn’t said anything to MJ about the space ship and his experiences. She knows that his therapist wants him to talk about it, but up to now, he’s been reluctant, almost skittish.  
  
Ned peers at him thoughtfully.  
  
MJ runs her fingers through his uncombed hair, gently untangling the mess. She knows it settles him somehow.  
  
“How long were you in that ship?” Ned asks carefully.  
  
“Felt like ages,” Peter answers. “I mean I don’t know. It was dark except with loads of stars. But no sun so no day, no night. We ate when we were hungry and slept when we were tired.”  
  
“Wow,” Ned says.  
  
“The food was crap,” Peter says with feeling. “I mean we didn’t even know what it was. The ship was stocked with boxes labeled in a weird alien language. Some kind of alien meat and freeze-dried alien vegetables and weird-tasting drinks …”  
  
Ned’s eyes were like saucers.  
  
“We didn’t know how to cook it or if any of it might kill us,” Peter mutters.  
  
“You and Stark had lots of time to talk,” MJ says.  
  
“Yeah,” Peter agrees. “You know Tony – he just word-vomits all the time. Never-ending monologue on … all sorts of things … _way_ too much information on his relationship with Pepp … er Ms. Potts … and his drinking and wild youth and his regrets and fears ….”  
  
“Hypocrite,” Ned snorts. “Like _you_ didn’t talk at all?”  
  
Peter grins. “No, of course not. I talked. Told him everything. All my fears and worries and weird phobias. By the time we landed on Titan, I had NO secrets left.”  
  
Ned rubs Peter’s foot and looks away.  
  
Peter pauses. “We were pretty sure it was a one-way trip, so …”  
  
MJ scritches her nails into Peter’s scalp and he burrows his nose into her thigh.  
  
“But Stark made it back,” MJ says. “Against all odds. And told Potts all about this quirky spider-boy.”  
  
He laughs. “I guess. Now she must know all my secrets.”  
  
“What about Dr. Strange?” Ned asks.  
  
“Such an asshole,” Peter grumbles.  
  
MJ has noticed that every time he talks about Strange, Peter describes him as an asshole. Considering his tolerance for Stark, she wonders what makes Strange so notably irredeemable.  
  
“Told us point-blank that he wouldn’t try to save us if we were in danger – his only concern was the stone,” Peter grumbles. “Then, he just gave it up. Handed it over to Thanos.”  
  
There’s no public official account of what happened on Titan so MJ is pretty sure that what Peter is telling them is classified information. She’s heard no whisper that Strange is in trouble or has been blamed in any way for the ‘blip’.  
  
“What? Why?” Ned asks.  
  
“Technically?” Peter snorts. “To save Stark cause he got stabbed. But at that cost? As much as I loved him, I know Tony would have preferred to die rather than have Strange hand over the stone. All those billions of people died …”  
  
“Holy fuck.”  
  
Peter makes a face and shifts again. “Even on the ship, Strange kept to himself and wouldn’t tell us anything,” he complains. “On Titan, he said he had a plan, said he’d seen the future, but he wouldn’t tell us anything useful. I kind think he’s one of those fake prophets who says … I know your future, but I won’t tell you until it happens … Asshole.”  
  
“So you fought Thanos?” Ned asks carefully. “Like really? Hand to hand?”  
  
“Yeah,” Peter nods. “I had hold of the gauntlet at one time. Mantis was on him, trying to get him to sleep and I was yanking on the gauntlet with all my strength. And then the other Peter, the stupid half-human one, freaked out because Thanos had killed his girlfriend … and it was all over. We lost.”  
  
MJ’s brain is whirling. The public knows very little about the space ship and the battle or who was present and especially not who could be held to fault. Strange and the other Peter (Quill, she remembers) are still running around New York, making the occasional public appearance. They’re treated as heroes.  
  
If what Peter says is true …  
  
Of course, MJ also knows that mistakes happen in the heat of battle.  
  
Ned pushes Peter’s feet off him and gets up to get drinks.  
  
“This conversation is getting a bit dark,” Peter grumbles. “Can we change the topic?”  
  
“Can I go to the next Stark party?” Ned asks.  
  
“Yeah!” Peter agrees. “Next year you’ll be one of the award winners. Showing off your mad robotics skills.”  
  
“Are you going to take Cho up on her offer?” MJ asks. “To work in the lab, doing science things?”  
  
“Yeah, I think so,” he says. “Can’t be Spider-man all the time.”  
  
“So we’ll both work at the labs?” Ned says. “Cool!”  
  
Ned settles down again on the couch and starts flipping through Netflix. “I can’t stay much longer,” he says. “Tell me more about the party.”  
  
“Peter and I had sex,” MJ says. “Not AT the party of course … after.”  
  
“MJ!” Peter laughs. “Are we broadcasting that now?”  
  
“Just to Ned,” she smiles.  
  
Ned offers high fives, first to Peter then to MJ. “I don’t want details,” he says lightly. “But congratulations, I guess. I kind of figured that you were heading in that direction.”  
  
“It was awesome,” Peter says dreamily.  
  
MJ hums.  
  
“It WAS, wasn’t it?” he checks with her.  
  
“It was,” she agrees.  
  
“Do you need privacy? Do you need me to leave?” Ned asks lightly.  
  
“No!” Peter says quickly. “May has her own kind of spidey sense for when we’re left alone. If you leave she’ll come home five minutes later wanting to make cannelloni or something.”______

_ _ __ _ _

_ _ __ _ _

** 

They say that you’re not a true New Yorker until you’ve been mugged, but MJ would like to strangle whoever ‘THEY’ is because she’s a born and bred New Yorker and she’s never faced the business end of a gun before … until now.  
  
“Whoa, whoa …” she says soothingly to the quivering, jumpy, spotty teenager in front of her. “There’s no need for that.”  
  
Maybe she’s been hanging around Spider-man too much.  
  
He waves the scary looking black gun wildly around. “Just give me your … your … all your money!” he squeaks, looking terrified.  
  
“I don’t carry any cash,” MJ argues.  
  
“I don’t care!” he screams.  
  
This is ridiculous, MJ decides. She JUST said good-bye to Peter.  
  
“I don’t have anything in my purse that would be useful to you,” she argues. She fumbles in her bag trying to find the slim cylinder of pepper spray by touch. “It’s just homework and photos and … um …”  
  
“Just hand it over!” he yells.  
  
And then there’s a subtle shift and several young men emerge from the shadows. Uh oh.  
  
“Having some trouble there, Jakey-boy?” one taunts the teenager with the gun.  
  
“No!” he snaps, aiming the gun a little more precisely at MJ.  
  
MJ sighs. “You know that this is Spider-man’s territory? You have to be a fool to be doing this here.”  
  
“He’s no-where near here,” one of the other young men asserts.  
  
The group circles MJ. She wonders if it’s some kind of gang – maybe it’s a hazing ritual or an initiation? They’re young, wearing cheap jeans and dirty t-shirts, fake leather jackets and no-name sneakers.  
  
MJ takes a big breath and starts screaming.  
  
The teen drops the gun which clatters to the ground. One of the young men in the circle runs toward her and reaches out to grab her arm. MJ pulls out the pepper spray and blasts him in the eyes.  
  
“Spidey!” she yells to the sky, still empty of her stupid, red-suited boyfriend.  
  
Someone else grabs her from behind and lifts her feet off the ground. She elbows him … HARD.  
  
And suddenly there’s the thwap, thwap sound of webs. Someone screams; the guy who is holding her gasps and drops her to her knees and then Spider-man … Peter … is holding her hand and helping her to her feet.  
  
“Hold onto me,” he says sharply, slipping one arm around her waist.  
  
“What?”  
  
Suddenly they are rising into the sky and MJ screams.  
  
“Shhh,” Peter murmurs into her ear. “I’ve got you.”  
  
It’s like the opposite of the drop of a rollercoaster … they zoom up and Peter does something and they drop then they swing up again and MJ buries her face in his neck and tries very hard not to scream in his ear.  
  
Peter lands them both on the ledge of a building and MJ flattens herself to the cold glass of the window.  
  
“Jesus fucking … Christ!” she swears.  
  
“The mouth on you,” he teases. He scans her swiftly, running his gloved fingers lightly down her arms. “You’re OK? Not hurt?”  
  
“I’m fine,” she assures him, shakily.  
  
“Good.”  
  
“Where are we?” MJ asks.  
  
“Top of an abandoned building …” he starts to say and MJ snorts and pushes him. And Peter wobbles, windmills his arms and just manages not to fall backwards off the building.  
  
“Oh my GOD!” MJ squeaks.  
  
“What was that for?” he exclaims, re-gaining his balance.  
  
“You know I hate heights,” she complains. “And here you are swinging me up like 20 storeys high …”  
  
“It’s no more than 10,” he interrupts.  
  
“Peter!”  
  
“Shush,” he laughs. “Not when I’m dressed like this.”  
  
MJ shivers.  
  
Peter … Spider-man … puts an arm on either side of her and shields her from the height and the cold with his body. “Sorry,” he whispers. “I just needed to get you away from those guys.”  
  
MJ looks around. They really are on the outside of an old abandoned office tower. She hates heights. She reaches for the mask that Peter is wearing.  
  
He jerks his head away. “MJ,” he says warily.  
  
“Shhh,” she says soothingly.  
  
She peels the bottom part of the mask up to reveal his lips and jaw and then she kisses him. And he kisses her back, fierce and passionate and hungry.  
  
After several minutes, MJ pulls away panting. Peter rests his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he whispers. “Ready to go down?”  
  
“No,” she shakes her head. “Is there any other way? I really don’t like the swinging.”  
  
He sighs. “There are stairs, but it’s a long way.”  
  
“S’ok.”  
  
Peter snaps the lock on the rooftop door and escorts her inside. They can both hear sirens below.  
  
“Go!” she urges him. “I’ll be fine.”  
  
“Text me when you get home,”  
  
“I will,” she promises.  
  
By the time she gets home, she’s decided to keep her adventure to herself. No reason to let on that she was almost mugged. No reason to tell her parents about her rescue. It’s not like she hasn’t seen Spider-man before … There’s no reason to worry them.

** 

MJ wakes in the morning to news on the radio about a North Korean defector in London and an earthquake in Peru and an exciting new climate change treaty that has just been signed. She shuffles into the kitchen to find her Dad reading one of the three print newspapers (he likes to obtain his news the old fashioned way) that get delivered every morning.  
  
And on the front cover of each New York-based newspaper is a picture of Spider-man … Kissing. A. Girl.  
  
“What the …?” MJ squeaks, her fatigue vanishing.  
  
Her dad grimaces. “Apparently the webswinger has a lady love,” he says. “It’s all anyone can talk about.”  
  
MJ snatches up the nearest paper.  
  
All three papers are using the same picture taken by a freelance photographer whose name MJ does not recognize. It’s clearly Spider-man on that ledge on the outside of an abandoned office building, leaning into a girl who cannot be seen clearly. His mask is pulled up to reveal his lips and the kiss is obviously passionate.  
  
MJ is relieved to see that it’s next to impossible to identify her as she’s hidden in the shadows behind a pillar. There’s no logo on her clothes, her hair is hidden under her hood, and the camera has failed to pick up any jewelry or anything identifiable.  
  
But still …  
  
She flips text messages to Ned and Peter even though they won’t be up for hours yet. Crap, she thinks. Crap, crap, crap.  
  
She hides everything she was wearing last night in the back of her closet.  
  
Ned laughs hysterically when he finally crawls out of bed to face the onslaught of messages and notifications from his various Spider-watch apps.  
  
“I thought you’d be more discrete than that!” he chortles in their three-way emergency phone conversation.  
  
“MJ was nervous,” Peter explains, deadpan. “I was comforting her.”  
  
Ned just about falls off his bed laughing.  
  
MJ can’t kill either of them with her patented kill glare. Not over the phone.  
  
“We just ride it out,” Peter insists. “No comments, no change in patrolling … people will get bored.”  
  
For the first few days, all anyone can talk about is the identity of the girl. MJ goes to school and finds that classmates have blown up the newspaper picture about 500% and are scouring the image with magnifying glasses for clues.  
  
“She’s tall,” Cindy observes. “He’s reaching up to kiss her.”  
  
“Are we sure it’s a girl?” Abe asks. “I mean it IS the 21st Century – let’s not fall into hetero-normative assumptions.”  
  
“Photographer says he saw Spider-man swing her up there,” Betty explains. “Definitely a girl.”  
  
“So a tall girl …”  
  
“Well, Spidey is not that big a guy …”  
  
Flash glowers at MJ.  
  
“Why is he mad at you?” Peter whispers to MJ.  
  
“Think about it,” she retorts.  
  
Then … someone, apparently a female news anchor makes an offhand comment about wondering how someone might get themselves into an embrace with Spidey because let’s face it … _dat ass, amirite_? And suddenly the brakes are off and every woman in the New York area is admitting to a crush on super sexy Spider-man.  
  
And well, yes, the famous photo on the ledge does display Peter’s nicely toned body rather well. It’s not like the suit hides _anything_.  
  
Suddenly social media is full of gifs … of Spidey’s rather shapely backside.  
  
There are photoshopped images of him kissing … other people. And doing … other … sometimes R-rated things …  
  
Ned collects video compilations of Spidey’s antics where the camera has managed to focus on his … butt.  
  
“I never noticed before,” Ned smirks. “But _dude_ …”  
  
“Ned!”  
  
“Well, I don’t swing that way … ha! But if I did, I’d have noticed the abs and the ass. No wonder you’re getting all this attention.”  
  
Peter slouches into school wearing the loosest, droopiest jeans in his closet.  
  
MJ smirks at him. “All this time you were worried about your _face_ being recognized,” she teases him.  
  
“It’s embarrassing,” he retorts. “Being reduced to a … body part.”  
  
“Objectification sucks, huh?”  
  
“Spidey is just trying to be a good guy,” Peter points out. “This attention seems a bit, you know, counter-productive.”  
  
The attention is bleeding into his patrols. Poor Spidey is fending off more requests for selfies now than ever before. And the occasional grope. Kisses, too are being requested, and Peter’s getting tired of explaining that he doesn’t DO that. Not with random strangers.  
  
May is amused.  
  
She smirks and saves her favourite snaps of him on her phone. And posts them to Twitter with no commentary.  
  
“That’s weird,” Peter objects.  
  
“I prefer those photos to the ones of you doing stupid crazily dangerous tricks,” she explains.  
  
“But those photos … they’re like … sexualizing me. And I’m your nephew.”  
  
May pulls up one of Spider-man giving directions to a group of tourists. “What’s sexy about this one?” she asks in all innocence. “Like I said, SO much better than the ones of you falling out of the sky.”  
  
“Swinging …” he protests. “I don’t fall that often.” ________


	7. funky alien weapons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! I could NOT figure out how to finish this story ... Anyways, it's done. Hope you enjoy.

“You know,” Ned says idly while they wait for Peter to join them in Ned’s room. “I could maybe help with that spreadsheet of yours.”

“What spreadsheet?” MJ frowns.

He grins. “The one you’re using to track funky weapons.”

MJ sniffs.

“I could ask Betty for help,” Ned suggests. “She uses this fancy mapping software in her enriched geo class.”

“We can’t let just anyone see my data!” MJ objects. “She’ll wonder where I got it from.”

“It’s Betty,” Ned says. “What’s she going to say?”

“Yeah …”

There’s a commotion in the hallway and Ned’s little sister flings the door open with a flourish. “Pete’s here!” she announces.

“Hey, thanks,” he says, sidling past her into Ned’s room.

“Scram!” Ned snaps at his sister.

She slams the door as she leaves.

Peter looks uncomfortable. As an only child, he’s never really understood sibling dynamics. “I have something for you guys,” he says.

“For me? For us?” MJ exclaims in mock amazement. “You shouldn’t have!”

Peter tosses Ned something that looks like a leather watch strap.

“Oh my god!” Ned squeals. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Um yeah … they’re my old ones.”

Ned slides it on and aims it at the wall. “Does it have web fluid?” He presses a button and a thread of white string squirts out to land with a splat on the wall. “Oops.”

Peter winces. “Um yeah, the canister is still there, but only because it’s messy to take out once it’s been activated. I wasn’t thinking you’d use it.”

“Sorry.”

Peter tosses him a tiny bottle of solvent and turns back to MJ offering her a twin of the web shooter that Ned is wearing. “It’s primarily a GPS tracker,” he explains. “See – it has a panic button, plus just a regular communicator here …”

“So, like a cellphone?” she notes drily.

He bites his lip. “Kinda more than that and I’m hoping it’s something a bit more discrete.”

MJ slides the device on her wrist. It’s thick and heavy and she’s not sure what kind of fashion statement she’s making, but she appreciates the thought.

Ned is exclaiming in delight as he examines his webshooter. “This is SO cool!”

“We match,” MJ observes. “Now people will think we’re twins or something.”

“Ha!” 

They settle down to play a strategy board game and MJ annihilates the guys. Then Peter walks her home and kisses her on the doorstep.

“Will you wear the wrist guard?” he asks softly.

“Promise,” she agrees.

“Thanks,” he sighs. “I know it’s crazy and I’m not being rational and all, but I’ve been having the worst nightmares. I just want … I just want to know you can reach me.”

“I promise,” she says again.

**

The Daily Bugle has a new photo and a new anti-Spider-man theme.

Was mystery girl actually OK with that kiss, or NOT? the headline blares as they print a photo of the same incident where MJ and Peter were at the top of that building, but this photo shows MJ pushing him and his arms windmilling to regain his balance.

MJ’s first reaction is horror because you can see more of her face and hair in this image. SHE can recognize herself and she’s sure that others who know her are going to figure out her identity. Crap, crap, crap …

It’s a quiet week so media decides that the question of consent is particularly newsworthy. There are articles, multiple articles, asking whether Spider-man was right to swing a girl up to the top of a building to kiss her.

“We don’t even know who she is,” one pundit exclaims. “It’s not like she had much of a choice once she was up there.”

Experts in body language debate the sequence.

Bloggers send out queries – has anyone else felt preyed upon by the webswinger? Anyone got weird stories to share?

Loads of girls write in about interactions with Spidey …

“He flirted with me, but really badly,” one says.

“He seemed kind of awkward,” another says.

“He waved good-bye then crashed into a tree.”

Ned howls in laughter. “How have I missed these before?”

“It was before,” Peter tries to defend himself. “In the beginning when I was nervous and not so …”

“Sophisticated?” MJ suggests blandly. “Articulate? Smooth?”

“I NEVER said I was good at talking to girls,” Peter grumbles as they walk through the halls to decathalon practice.

“I’d expect you to have a little game,” Ned grins. “I mean you asked Liz out.”

“Total fluke,” Peter says.

“Well these days at least people assume Spidey has game,” Ned grins. “You on the other hand …”

“I don’t need GAME,” Peter says. “I’ve got MJ.”

“Thanks,” she smiles as they join their group for practice.

Midway through practice, MJ can see Peter checking his phone and then whispering to Ned. She scowls at him, but runs Betty and Abe through a rapid fire literature quiz.

“Uh MJ,” Peter says diffidently, already gathering up his stuff. “I … ah …”

“Go!” she snaps.

“I have a … ah …”

“Don’t even …”

He stands there looking foolish.

“Go!” she tells him again. “I’m not your teacher.”

He leaves.

Flash steps up to take Peter’s place, but not without grumbling. “He’s so flakey. I don’t know why he’s still on this team. Blatant favouritism, nepotism even …”

“Shut up, Flash,” Ned snaps. “Peter has a … thing.”

“I know, I know!” Flash snarls. “Do you even know what his ‘thing’ is? God that sounded dirty …”

Several people laugh.

Mr. Harrison takes MJ aside to talk to her about an upcoming trip. He needs her to know about allergies and certain team member’s financial situations and by the time, they are finished, practice is long over. MJ walks back into the practice room and is surprised to find Ned, Betty, and Flash huddled around a laptop debating and discussing something.

“We need more GPS data,” Betty says firmly.

“Road trip!” Flash declares.

“What is this?” MJ asks mildly.

“Your treasure hunt,” Betty explains. “Ned and I thought a little more brainpower would help.

MJ freezes.

Ned looks uncomfortable.

“My … what?” she asks carefully.

“Ned won’t tell me exactly what you’re looking for, but I downloaded the data from your spreadsheet into my mapping software and once I’ve got some GPS data added, I should be able to pinpoint your ‘treasure’,” Betty explains cheerily.

MJ tilts her head in her most threatening manner and Ned scuttles into the hallway.

“Treasure?” she hisses at him.

“Well, I wasn’t about to tell her what you’re really looking for!” he squeaks.

“Why are you telling other people at ALL?”

“Well, I thought her mapping software would help …”

“We can’t just be telling everybody!” MJ snarls.

“It’s not everybody!” he tries to defend himself. “It’s just Betty and she won’t tell …”

“And fucking FLASH!”

“He left and then came back and wanted to see what we were working on …”

“Holy fuck!” MJ says furiously. “You can’t keep a secret to save your life or anyone else’s …”

“Hold on,” he says sharply. “This isn’t just about you. Peter’s involved too.”

“Does he know?”

“Err … no.”

Flash pokes his head out the door. “If you’ve finished discussing highly classified secrets in loud voices, we’re ready to head out to map some locations.”

“What?” MJ says.

“Betty says we need to go to at least three locations to triangulate,” Flash explains.

For once MJ is overruled. The four of them follow her rough directions in the spreadsheet (in the alley between the Red Robin and the drycleaner on 51st street …) to obtain accurate GPS coordinates of at least three locations.

“How long will this take?” MJ frets as they assemble in a café afterwards while Betty inputs the data.

“Ten minutes, fifteen tops,” Betty promises.

“Seriously?”

Betty nods and sips her Frappuccino.

The laptop pings and Betty cheerily transfers some kind of data to her phone. The gang follows Betty as she leaves them out of the café into the sunlight, following directions on her phone.

“It’s near-by,” she says. “Just around the corner actually. Let’s go check it out.”

MJ glares at Ned. “Shouldn’t we … uh … wait for you-know-who?”

He shrugs.

Betty pushes a gate open and they walk into a quiet courtyard with a fountain and an empty garden overlooked by apartments. “It’s here,” she says. “Whatever it is that you’re looking for.”

MJ was expecting to find an alien weapons cache in a run-down abandoned factory down by the river. This quiet residential complex feels wrong. It’s also eerily quiet. There’s no-one on any of the balconies. There are no flower pots or laundry or cats peering through windows.

Betty frowns at her phone. “It’s below us somehow.”

“Parking garage,” Flash says, pointing to stairs heading down.

They follow him despite MJ’s misgivings.

“It’s close,” Betty says as they climb down into the darkness. “But I’m about to lose service.”

Flash pushes a door open and they follow him.

“Huh,” he says. “Where are the cars?”

It is indeed a parking lot, but instead of cars, there are boxes and shelves and worktables. Ned looks up at the silent red flashing light above their heads. “Uh oh,” he murmurs to MJ.

Flash picks up something from the messy workshop table. “Holy crap,” he says. “Take a look!” he holds up a bulky black weapon with blue light glowing around the barrel.

MJ hears footsteps. “Hide!” she hisses at her classmates but everyone freezes as two armed men dressed in paramilitary gear step into view.

“What the hell?” one of them says.

“Amir musta forgot to lock up again,” the other one growls. “What are you kids doing here?”

Flash grabs the weapon in both hands and straightens up. “We were looking for an address and we ended up here by accident,” he says boldly.

One guy aims his significantly bigger, scarier gun in Flash’s direction.

“Whoa, whoa there,” Betty squeaks, holding out her hands in a placating manner, “We’re not any kind of a risk to you.”

“What is that?” the other guy snaps at her. “A cellphone?”

“Um yeah?”

He steps forward with his hand extended. “Give it here.”

“What?”

Ned steps up bravely. “Leave her alone,” he says fiercely. “We didn’t mean to come here, we just took a wrong turn.”

One of the guy sneers. “Through a locked gate, and multiple locked doors?”

Flash looks puzzled. “Nothing was locked,” he points out. “We just wandered in.”

The other guy aims his massive gun at the corner and fires.

“Boom!”

The sound wave ricochets around the concrete room and hits them like a physical blast. They scream and cover their ears. Flash drops his weapon and Betty drops her phone.

MJ flips the panic switch on her webshooter.

The men snatch up the fallen weapon and cellphone, then pat each of them down efficiently, taking their cellphones and Betty’s school bag containing her laptop.

“You can’t!” she complains. “It’s got all my schoolwork.”

“Shoulda thought of that before you played Scooby Do,” one man growls at her.

“Sit!” one of them snaps. They obey, sliding down to the dirty floor.

One man stands guard, standing a little apart from them, his nasty scary gun cradled in his arms.

Ned catches MJ’s eye and flicks his wrist. He gives her a silent, questioning look.

MJ nods.

Flash squints at each of them in turn. 

“Oh my god, I haven’t saved any of my work to the cloud,” Betty grumbles.

They sit and they wait. It’s cold. They can hear people come and go and speak in quiet voices. Ned puts his arm around Betty and she snuggles into his side.

MJ must doze off because she’s suddenly startled by a crash. The lights flicker and go off plunging them into darkness. People scream – Flash and Betty and Ned are all yelling and so are unfamiliar men. She clambers to her feet, disorientated by the complete darkness.

And then there’s the familiar thwap thwap of webshooters and Peter’s cheerful voice admonishing the guards.

“Did you forget to pay your electricity bill?” he says lightly. Thump! It sounds like someone thrown into a wall.

“Or maybe someone tripped over a cord?” he teases. There’s another crash.

Emergency lights flicker dimly at floor level.

Spiderman flicks his wrist and webs anther bad guy to the wall.

“I KNEW it!” Flash yells, jumping to his feet.

Spiderman is briefly distracted, freezing in surprise. “Flash?” he says in surprise.

The last guard, the only one not yet webbed, swings his gun carelessly around and fires, one sharp earsplitting blast.

Ned yells.

Spiderman aims his webshooter at the guy, but he escapes running frantically up the stairs, taking two steps at a time.

Spiderman hesitates, clearly wanting to go after him, but he turns to Ned instead.

Ned slides slowly down the wall, leaving a red streak on the plaster, until he’s sitting on the floor, his face ashen, his right hand clutching the upper part of his left arm – which is soaked in bright red blood.

“Oh shit!” Spiderman exclaims.

His body language is frantic as he’s clearly torn to chase after the disappearing bad guy, but desperate to see that Ned is Ok.

Spiderman kneels in front of Ned. “Let me see.” He pulls Ned’s hand away and tears the bloody t-shirt away from his shoulder.

“Just nicked me,” Ned tries to assure him. “It’s nothing.”

“OK, ok, Ned, listen to me,” Spiderman says gently. “It’s just a graze, ok? Nasty, it’ll hurt, but we just need to stop the bleeding and get you to a hospital for stitches.”

“I’ll take care of him,” MJ muscles in.

Spiderman looks up at her, the big white eyes on his mask wide.

“Go!” she orders him. “Go get that bad guy. You can’t let him get away.”

“You just need to stop the bleeding,” he tells her urgently. “Use the … uh … web …”

“I know,” she pushes his shoulder gently. “Go!”

He looks around at their little group. “Anyone else hurt?”

“No!” Betty says shakily. “Go get him. We’ll take care of Ned.”

He nods and takes off.

“How’d he know our names?” Flash asks.

Betty glares at him.

MJ kneels carefully in front of Ned. “We need to wipe up the blood and put pressure on, right?” she says trying to keep her voice steady.

“No, no,” he mutters. “Use the webshooter. The web will stop the bleeding.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Pete ...” He bites his tongue and tries again. “We … ah … we researched it once. Old wives’ remedy.”

MJ aims carefully and presses the button on the webshooter. White liquid squirts out and lands messily on Ned’s upper arm.

“Ouch,” he says softly, putting his head back against the wall.

“Sorry,” MJ says. “Are you sure about this?”

“Uh huh,” Ned says firmly. “They used to use cobwebs to staunch the bleeding in the old days.”

“Gross,” Betty mutters. “Sounds unsanitary.”

“Better now?” MJ checks.

“It hurts,” Ned says honestly. “I get that it’s just a graze, but you know how paper cuts hurt even though they’re just small?”

“Yeah.”

“Ouch,” he says.

Flash finds his voice. “How did you get ..?” he starts to ask staring at MJ’s webshooter.

“Shhh,” Betty hisses at him, tipping her head to indicate the bizarre spectacle of three bad guys webbed up to the wall, their mouths covered with spiderweb, their eyes wide.

“Let’s get out here,” MJ suggests, helping Ned to his feet.

“I know this neighbourhood,” Flash says. “There’s a clinic just around the corner.”

They climb the stairs and Flash leads them unerringly to a small urgent care clinic with a tiny waiting room.

“My boyfriend’s been shot,” Betty announces in a wavery voice.

The nurse sniffs and hands her a clipboard. 

“Finally,” Ned says with a sigh, settling into one of the cheap plastic chairs. “Takes getting shot for her to admit it.”

MJ grins and pats his knee.

“There isn’t room for all of you,” the nurse grumbles. “Who else is injured?”

“Just me,” Ned says.

“I’ll stay with him,” Betty assures MJ and Flash.

Flash drags MJ out into the sunshine. “My dad’s got a place around here,” he says imperiously. “Let’s go.”

“Why?”

“Do you like discussing secrets in public?” he asks sharply. “Cause we’ve got some things to chat about and I’d prefer to do it in private. Plus, I’m hungry so two birds, one stone.”

He leads her to an apartment startingly similar to the one they just left. MJ looks up, remembering the eerily quiet balconies.

“How much New York real estate does your family own?” she asks. “It kind of feels like hoarding.”

“Oh you socialist, you,” Flash answers. “My parents would love it if I brought you home.”

“As if!” she grimaces.

“Joking,” he smiles, swiping a card against a key pad.

He leads her into an apartment, dark and somber and decorated like a mobster’s man cave. “My dad’s secret pied-à-terre,” Flash announces grandly. “Mom doesn’t know about it of course.”

“Oh my god,” MJ mutters.

Flash heads to the kitchen where he pulls out bread and cheese and butter and a frying pan. “Not gluten free, are you?” he asks. “Lactose intolerant?”

“Nope.”

“So tell me about the fancy webshooter,” he invites as he starts to assemble two grilled cheese sandwiches. “It’s a communicator, right?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to talk to Spiderman and the bad guys took our cellphones.”

“You think I have Spiderman on speed dial?” MJ snorts.

Flash watches her with amusement. “I KNOW you have Spiderman on speed dial,” he says. “But maybe under a different name … like ah … Parker, the dorky boyfriend?”

MJ scowls.

“He doesn’t even try to disguise his voice,” Flash points out.

MJ sighs.

“Not to mention freaking out about Leeds,” Flash notes. “Dead give-away.”

“Why do you want to talk to him?” MJ asks warily.

“You think it’s a coincidence that I knew where the parking garage was?” Flash asks. “Spiderman’s going to want to hear what I have to say. Peter can … ah … listen in. I don’t know how these alter egos work.”

MJ sighs and flips the comms switch on her wrist guard.

“Hey,” Peter answers swiftly.

“You’re on speaker phone,” she warns him.

“Huh?”

“I’m with Flash and he knows who you are and he wants to meet up with you.”

There’s a long pause. “Ok, tell me the address and open a window. I’ll be there in 5.”

Flash slides a sandwich over to her and she bites into it. Oh wow. Instead of wonderbread, he’s used thick cut, crusty rich people bread along with real butter and fancy smoked cheese. The grilled cheese sandwich is to die for.

They wait. Flash pours some lemonade. There’s a noise at the window and then Spiderman is pushing it open and climbing inside.

“Oh my god!” Flash still sounds enthused. “It really is you.”

Spiderman cocks his head to one side. “Yeah?”

“Take your mask off.”

“Why?”

“I know it’s you,” Flash insists. “I recognize your voice. You stole my fucking car and totaled it.”

Spiderman looks up and around, the eyes on his mask growing wide.

“What …?” Flash asks.

“He’s checking for surveillance cameras,” MJ tells him.

Flash waves his hand dismissively. “Are you kidding me? This is where Dad does his top secret wheeling and dealing … and maybe entertains the occasional guest. You think he wants evidence?”

“Yeah,” Peter pulls the mask off. “Sorry about that.” 

Flash stares. “Oh my GOD.”

“You said you knew,” Peter reminds him warily.

“Well yeah,” Flash agrees, nodding. “But it’s one thing to thing to know theoretically. Quite another to see it for sure. How’d you do it? How’d you meet Stark? Convince him to make you Spiderman? I mean, that’s a hell of a suit!”

MJ rolls her eyes. “Peter IS Spiderman,” she says. “Stark recruited him; he didn’t make him.”

“How does the suit let you do all that … acrobatics and stuff?” Flash persists. “The sticking to walls, I can see, but the jumping …?”

“I got bit by a radioactive spider,” Peter snaps. “It gave me powers.”

Flash blinks.

“He can stick to the ceiling even without his suit,” MJ tells Flash.

“Not the suit?” Flash asks, the corners of his mouth turning down.

Peter shakes his head.

Flash sighs.

Peter holds out a bag. “Found your cellphones,” he says.

MJ rifles through the bag and pulls hers out. “Thanks.”

He grins.

“Lovebirds,” grumbles Flash.

Peter cocks his head to one side. “You said you had something to show me?”

“This way,” Flash points. “You’re gonna love this.”

He takes them down a set of dark stairs and pushes open a room that looks at first like a museum – full of glass cases.

Peter goes to step inside and Flash puts out a hand to stop him. “Idiot,” he sneers. “Ever heard of security?”

Peter pulls on his Spider-man mask and looks around. “Shit,” he says.

MJ gives him A LOOK.

“Lasers,” he explains. “And video surveillance and some kind of nozzle …”

Flash nods. “Dad’s not fucking around. That’s knock-out gas if you get too close.”

“What’s in the cases?” MJ asks.

Flash rolls his eyes.

“Weapons?” Peter guesses, tapping the spider icon on his chest. It separates from the suit and buzzes off like a toy drone.

Then he looks around, crouches, and jumps to the wall.

“Yikes,” Flash mutters.

Spider-man crawls across the wall, shoots a web at the ceiling and swings carefully over the glass cases. He looks for a bit then then climbs back up the web, across the wall and back to the doorway where Flash and MJ are waiting.

“Alien weapons,” he nods, snatching his buzzing drone out of the air. “This is gonna be fun.”

“I have information,” MJ announces suddenly. “In my … um … files.”

Peter whips off his Spider-man mask again and grins. 

The three of them decamp to the kitchen where Flash makes Peter a grilled cheese sandwich and MJ borrows Flash’s laptop to download her spreadsheet.

“See,” she explains pointing at the screen, “there are four or five different types, recognizable by the colour of the barrel and design.”

“You did all this?” Flash asks squinting at the screen. “What a nerd.”

It’s not the insult it might be among kids from a different school.

Peter grins. “The queen of nerds,” he agrees.

In the end, Peter decides that this isn’t Spider-man’s bust. In fact, it’s better if the bad guys remain in the dark about his involvement. He makes a few phone calls to interested parties, leaves them with detailed information about the security and the alien weapons, and allows New York’s finest to take credit for the weapons bust.

He changes into street clothes and walks with MJ and Flash to meet up with Betty and Ned. Betty admits that she’s known about Peter’s alter-ego for a while.

“Ned was just so cagey about Spider-man,” she says blandly. “I mean, night monkey? What a stupid name.”

“Hey!” Ned protests. “I was thinking on my feet.”

She and Flash tick off the clues … “Spider-man’s appearance in Washington AND Venice, Peter being so flakey and ripped and always on the verge of falling asleep …”

“And the photo of Spider-man kissing MJ.”

“You couldn’t tell it was me,” MJ objects.

“EVERYONE knows it was you,” Betty snorts. “Even freshmen know.”

“Even teachers know,” Flash agrees. “Harrison keeps muttering about Peter swinging off to save the world.” 

Peter scrunches into his seat. “I feel like I need to go into hiding.”

“Why?” Flash shrugs. “We’ve known for months, some of us, YEARS, and no-one has ever revealed your secret. Not even when that stupid journalist was offering a reward.”

“Why?” Peter asks.

“Cause you’re one of us,” Betty says soothingly, patting his hand. 

“And you,” Flash kicks MJ under the table. “Quit trying to hide your brilliance. You’re queen of nerds at the nerdiest school in Queens. Own it baby.”

So MJ who has never felt accepted, never felt part of any group, and has never felt respected for the weird and quirky things she does, suddenly understands that she has found her ‘tribe’.

“Thanks,” she whispers.


End file.
